


Two Worlds Four Hearts

by TheChimeraSculptress



Category: Labyrinth (1986), X-Men (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2015-07-26
Packaged: 2018-04-10 00:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 55,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4370528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChimeraSculptress/pseuds/TheChimeraSculptress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The worlds of the X-Men and Labyrinth collide dramatically through cousins Rogue and Sarah. <br/>Pairings - Logan and Rogue, and Jareth and Sarah. Reviews appreciated, thanks!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Unexpected Christmas Present

Logan grimaced at the piercing squeals made by the younger residents of Xavier's School for the Gifted, his acute hearing paying the price of their boisterous merriment. Rolling his eyes, he stared desperately across at the bald, smartly dressed man sitting in a wheelchair opposite him.

"Do they have to be so loud?"

Charles Xavier allowed a perfectly sculptured eyebrow to lift in bemusement. "They are children, Logan. And it is Christmas."

Scott, in the process of unwrapping a present, turned his ruby red gaze to his most valuable, if most annoying, team member, and grinned. 'Never in the party spirit, are we, Logan.'

A low growl sounded from Logan's chest, although it was feigned for Scott's benefit. Contrary to what the Fearless Leader insisted, Logan was - much to his surprise - actually having a good time. He wouldn't, in a million years, admit it to Scott though, and so he reached for his tumbler of brandy and remained silent.

Scott's grin widened as he returned his attentions to his gift, although it quickly died when he was finally met with its contents. It was his turn to feign emotion as he looked across to where Jubilee and Kitty were in the process of attacking their own gifts.

"Thank you for the scarf, Jubilee." Although he viewed the world in various shades of red, he didn't need to be told that it was bright yellow.

"I expect to see you wearing it for the snowball fight!"

His fiancée, Doctor Jean Grey, reached down to whisper in his ear, having just entered the room in time to witness the amusing scene. "At least there weren't matching gloves."

Logan's heightened senses picked up her words and he chuckled quietly. Telepathically Jean rebuked him: "Don't relax yet, Logan. Jubilee might have given the gloves to you."

Logan frowned at the thought and peered worriedly down at the surprisingly generous pile of gifts beside his chair but just at that moment, Marie entered the room and the creases on his forehead smoothed out as if by magic. He sighed inwardly as he acknowledged how beautiful she looked with her cheeks flushed with excitement and her eyes glittering with happiness. This was her third Christmas at the school and she still hadn't come down from the high of finally being a part of a family again.

As she walked towards him, he felt a stirring below. She could've been poured into those jeans, how keenly they clung to her every curve, and the tight, cropped cream sweater only served to emphasise the woman she had become.

She was oblivious to his musings, however, and instead watched him in puzzlement. "You haven't opened any of your presents, Logan?"

"I was waiting for you, kid. Thought we'd open them together."

Marie smiled warmly, not seeming to notice the 'kid' at the end of his sentence, something that irritated her no end, especially now that she was almost twenty.

"Aw, Logan. That's so sweet."

"Wuss," Scott whispered discreetly under his breath, knowing that both Logan and Jean would pick it up. Jean grinned but Logan, too wrapped up in Marie for the time being, decided to let it go, realising that there could be plenty of pay back at the annual snow ball massacre.

Logan gestured to Marie's pile of presents, positioned neatly by his own.

"Open yours first."

Marie shook her head. "Nah, we take turns."

Logan nodded, pleased. "OK, but you start."

Marie sat at his feet and he felt extremely touched by the gesture. Yet at the same time, he felt angry with himself. How could something so wrong, feel so right? He shouldn't desire her like this, but it flowed so smoothly, as if it was meant to be. He had to fight the urge to reach down and stroke her beautiful silken hair, telling himself she was barely twenty. Although snatches of his memory were slowly returning to him, he still had no idea just how old he might be. Old enough to be her grandfather perhaps, or worst - her great-grandfather.

She peered up at him questioningly, as if sensing his shift in mood. "You OK, Logan?"

He shook away his demons, determined that they wouldn't spoil today of all days. "Fine, kid." He gestured to her presents. "Rip away." He smirked, suddenly allowing his claws to spring forth. "Unless you want me to do it for ya?"

Marie laughed but Logan was once again rebuked telepathically, this time by Charles. "Some of the children find those alarming, Logan. Please put them away."

"You'd be surprised, Chuck." Logan returned, via his mind. "Some of those kids are more blood-thirsty than me." But he retracted his blades anyway.

Presents were exchanged and both Marie and Logan were pleased with the choice of gifts the other had chosen, as well as what other members of the school had bought them. To Scott's irritation, Jubilee had not bought Logan gloves as he had hoped, although the gift was still yellow - the box that was. The gift of cigars made six boxes in total and Logan realized, somewhat wryly, that if he didn't have his mutant ability to heal, he would've probably died of lung cancer long ago.

They were about to get up and join the others in sharing some punch when Logan noticed a forgotten present peeking out from under his chair. It was for Marie. Excited by this extra gift, Marie hurriedly reached down to claim it, wondering whom it could be from. She was positive that she had opened gifts from everyone at the college.

When she looked at the label, however, she suddenly paled, something that didn't go by unnoticed by Logan.

"What's wrong, Marie?" Her name always replaced the 'kid', when conversation took a more serious turn.

She looked up at him. "It's from my step-aunt Karen, of all people. My parents must've told her I was here." She shrugged. "But why would she send me a present? She didn't particularly like me before I became a mutant, and didn't want anything to do with me as soon as my poison skin kicked in."

Logan frowned at her. "What have I said about calling it poison skin?"

"Sorry, Logan. It's just that she was the first one to call it that. It just reminded me."

"You can control it now, Marie. You've come a long way." Logan was painfully conscious of that fact. Had been since the day the professor's meditation lessons had finally paid off. The bittersweet torment that he could now touch her, yet couldn't possible touch her in the way he wanted, sent him off seeking refuge beneath many a cold shower. Accidental brushes of skin against skin was all he had allowed himself during the three months Marie had been in control of her mutant power, and it was driving him insane. He sensed that Marie also wanted more - he knew desire when he smelt it - yet she had not made any moves. He didn't know whether it was through fear of rejection or simply that she understood the demons he had to fight inside of him first.

"Are you going to open it, or stare at it all day, chica?" an impatient voice threw over their shoulders. They turned to see Jubilee, hands on yellow-clad hips, watching them with interest. She blew a bubble and it popped loudly. Logan found it hard to believe that she was around the same age as Marie. Marie had a maturity about her that well surpassed her years. Having Erik and himself in her head probably didn't help matters. Their combined years and experiences couldn't be much fun for any teenager. But Marie handled them well and for most of the time could live her life normally. Perhaps she would have been mature even without them. She was one special kid.

He corrected himself. One special woman.

He heard Marie unwrap the present and watched curiously, suddenly aware that Jubilee had crouched down beside his chair. As he met her gaze, she smirked. "So, Wolvie. Like the cigars?" She hesitated before adding mischievously: "Did you see Scott's face when he saw his scarf? Priceless!" She moved in closer. "That was my second Christmas present to you, by the way."

Logan raised an eyebrow and returned the smirk, the girl going up a notch in his people-who-are-tolerable list.

"It's a book."

Logan and Jubilee turned back to Marie.

Logan grunted, disappointed. "A book?"

Jubilee shot him a teasing look. "Oh, don't give us all that macho crap. We know you read books. Usually at two in the morning with a cigar and bare chest."

Sprung! Logan frowned dangerously at her. "You been spying on me?"

"Nah - Marie has, I just tagged along."

"Marie?" Logan growled, although secretly the thought that she had been spying on him at all was enough to send the heat back to his groin. "You been - "

_"The Labyrinth."_

"Huh?" Logan and Jubilee said in unison.

Marie turned back to them with a wistful look in her eyes. She held the small red book up to reveal the title, scribed in gold lettering. "The Labyrinth," she repeated. "Before I ran away I spent a few days with my cousin, Sarah, and she told me all about this book. That she wished her stepbrother away to some other world, using the words of some poem or something, and had to solve The Labyrinth and defeat the Goblin King in order to rescue him."

Logan and Jubilee exchanged blank looks.

"You mean that was the plot of the story?" Logan asked, confused.

"No, Sarah said it really happened." Marie shrugged. "I didn't believe her, of course. Sarah always had her head so way up in the clouds you didn't really know what was truth and what was made-up. I enjoyed listening to her stories though. The Labyrinth was one of the most elaborate. She really seemed to believe that it happened to her."

"And how old was this nutcase cousin of yours at the time?" Jubilee teased.

"About fifteen," Marie revealed.

"Fifteen?" Logan blurted. He shook his head in disbelief. "And they say that mutants have problems."

Marie scowled at him. "I won't have a single bad word said about Sarah. She was the only one who remained my friend after the mutation took affect. At least until I ran away. I wanted to stay in contact but," she peered down at the book affectionately, brushing the cover tenderly with her thumb, "somehow it just never happened." Marie's face darkened. "But I don't understand why Karen would send me this and not Sarah. If Karen knows where I am now, wouldn't Sarah, too?"

Logan shrugged. "I dunno, kiddo, your guess is as good as mine."

Jubilee stood up, Sarah and the book forgotten already. "Time to get plastered on some punch I think!"

Logan watched as Marie continued to remain fixated on the book. "You could always phone your cousin. Say hello - it being Christmas and all. Perhaps she's waiting for you to make the first move."

"I don't know the number," Marie blurted and Logan could tell it was just an excuse.

"Do you know her address?"

"Yes," Marie admitted grudgingly.

Logan made to stand up. "There you go, kid. I'm sure it would be nice to wish 'real' family a merry Christmas."

Marie placed the book down on top of the other presents and allowed Logan to help her up to her feet. "This is my family now, Logan."

Logan relished the feel of her warm hands in his and when Marie staggered a little as their bodies moved closer, he pulled her against him protectively.

"You're my family now, Logan," she whispered as she peered up at him with her large brown eyes and Logan couldn't help but pull her tighter against him. "You too, kid - " He faltered, correcting himself. "Marie."

Marie smiled. "Thanks, Logan."

As they reluctantly severed their embrace and turned to join the others Logan took full advantage of the close proximity of their bodies and reached for her hand. Squeezing it he whispered: "Merry Christmas, Marie."

She squeezed back. "Merry Christmas, Logan."


	2. Terrible News

Marie felt hot tears rush to her eyes as she shakily replaced the receiver. Turning slowly from the telephone, alone in the half-light of the mansion foyer, she was oblivious to the sounds of the Christmas party in full swing a few hundred yards down the pristine oak-panelled corridor.

"Sarah?" she whispered. "No. It can't be true."

She crumpled to the floor then, the shock finally hitting her.

***

Logan, being his usual solitary self, had retreated to a quiet corner of the spacious sitting room with a box of cigars and a six-pack of beer, content to watch the continuing merriment from afar. He had come a long way. In the past, he would've been back in his room by now, insistent on being alone, or else out skulking around the grounds slicing and dicing any tree branches that might have got in his way. He wasn't used to being a part of things, especially such a family atmosphere as this. Now, however, it felt strangely comforting.

He groaned beneath his breath, convinced his change of lifestyle was making him go soft in the head! The Wolverine within him rebelled against such a worrying thought. Glaring down at his hands, feeling the adamantium itch beneath his skin, he ached for a good fight. Instead, Logan felt his alter ego retreat with its tail between its legs when it realised the only fight it could expect today was one that involved snowballs.

Logan's eyebrow rose hopefully. Still, there was always the danger room.

Chewing down upon his cigar, he observed the residents of the X-mansion in wry amusement.

The kids were still as hyper as ever, playing some bizarre game of tinsel tag. A little girl with blue hair, who Logan suspected was 'it', had just caught the kid with the lizard-tongue and was in the process of trying to garrotte him with a length of tinsel. What had he told Charles only a few hours earlier? Bloodthirsty, the lot of them!

Logan's feral eyes roamed over to where most of the X-team sat around a table, playing poker. Jean, Scott, Hank, Gambit, Storm and even Charles - all wearing brightly coloured paper party hats - and seeming to be making more noise than the kids. They had invited him to play but upon seeing the stakes - a various assortment of candy - he had sauntered off in mock disgust insisting that he only played a real man's game of poker.

The younger X-kids, Marie's group of friends - Bobby, Jubilee, St John, Kitty, and a couple of others - were in the process of playing Twister. In all honesty, he didn't know where to look with some of the positions the girls got themselves in, although Bobby and St John seemed to be taking great interest. Logan chuckled quietly beneath his breath. Teenagers! More hormones than they knew what to do with. He was glad he had persuaded Marie to phone her cousin instead of playing.

Reminded of her, he craned his neck around to check the half open doors, realising that she had been on the phone for almost half an hour. He shrugged inwardly. But then she and her cousin probably had a lot to catch up on. He made to turn back to his observations but stopped. His senses pricked up and he sniffed at the air. Marie? He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping noisily at the wood floor, rousing the interest of the poker players.

Charles frowned his concern. "What is it, Logan?"

Logan was already halfway towards the doors. "Marie," he stated simply. "Something's wrong."

He found her crying at the foot of the phone, her legs pulled tightly up into her chest, face pressed to her knees, long hair flowing down her sides, the strands of shocking white vivid in the half-light.

Logan hurried over to her and was immediately kneeling at her side. "Darlin, what is it?"

She peered up at him, face puffy and damp, her mascara smudged. "They think Sarah's dead."

"Dead?"

Marie sniffed. "That's why Karen sent the book. It was what Sarah would've wanted."

Logan didn't know what to say. "Oh hell, kid. I'm so sorry." He hesitated and then reached for her, pulling her into his arms. "I'm so sorry." He was relieved when she surrendered willingly into the embrace, nuzzling into his t-shirt and wrapping her arms tightly around him.

He was conscious of others in the foyer now, sensing their confusion. Not wanting to release his hold on Marie, he spoke to Charles mentally: "Marie's had some bad news. Dead cousin. I'll stay with her."

There was a brief moment of silence, then the professor responded with: "OK, Logan. You know where we'll be if either of you need us."

"Thanks, Chuck."

He waited as they retreated, as Charles revealed in a lowered voice what had happened, whilst gesturing for them all to return to the party. Logan heard Jubilee protest once before he shut them all from his thinking and concentrated solely on Marie.

He loosened the embrace slightly and looked down at her. "Do you want to go up to my room so you can tell me what happened?"

Marie nodded, wiping her face. "Thanks, Logan."

***

Logan was shocked by what he learnt. It seemed much had happened since the cousins had last spent time together.

Sarah's insistence that the Labyrinth and her adventures there had been real had resulted in Karen convincing her father that she needed to be institutionalised for her own safety. Sarah had been seventeen. She remained in the institute for six months, where none of the treatments of therapy seemed to purge her delusions. Then, to everyone's alarm, she suddenly vanished, presumably run away, although how she had managed to escape such intensive security had everyone at a loss.

And she had been missing to this day. For three and a half years. Her father had paid professionals to search for her but it had been in vain. In the end he had given up, forced to accept that she was either dead or didn't want to be found. Karen, still convinced that Sarah was of an unstable mind, favoured the former. Her father, who was the one who explained all of this to Marie through tears of his own on the telephone, prayed for the latter, because at least it meant that his daughter was still alive.

And the book?

Sarah's father had discovered it whilst they were in the process of removing her possessions from her bedroom. Karen was expecting another child and wanted the room as a nursery. Although her father had insisted that nothing was to be thrown away, simply stored in the attic, upon finding the Labyrinth book he had remembered Sarah's whimsical desire that she wanted it to be passed on to Marie, should anything ever happen to her. And Karen, happy to be rid of anything of Sarah's, willingly obliged.

Marie had calmed a little but seemed distant, explaining that she felt painfully numb. Logan decided it was to be expected under the circumstances and did what only came naturally with Marie, offered her comfort.

They lay together in silence for quite a while, side by side on Logan's bed, Marie's back pressed into Logan's chest, her hair soft and sweet smelling against his face, whilst he wrapped a strong arm protectively around her. Logan decided that this was the best part of Christmas day for him. He only felt bad that something so good had to come from something so tragic.

"I don't believe she's dead," Marie whispered finally. She eased herself from his hold and turned around to face him. "I really don't. I have this strange feeling."

Logan frowned quizzically. "Define 'strange'."

Marie looked thoughtful. "We didn't used to spend as much time together as we would've liked since Sarah lived here in New York and I lived in Mississippi, but we used to talk on the phone all the time, and write regularly." She sat up and crossed her legs. "Sarah and I also had this connection. An intuition. We'd sort of know what the other was feeling emotionally, almost like sisters - or twins. We also subconsciously used to buy the same clothes, or style our hair in the same way." Marie hesitated and met Logan's eyes. "She even sensed the mutation, the change in me, long before I did."

Logan reached for her hand and squeezed gently. 'Perhaps she was a mutant, too."

"No. She was just Sarah," Marie whispered fondly.

"And this 'intuition'," Logan started, "is what makes you think she is still alive?"

Marie shrugged sadly. "That, and hope."

Logan reached across to wipe away a stray tear from Marie's cheek. He felt her quiver at his touch and wanted, more than ever, to just reach across and kiss her. He sighed inwardly, something he seemed to be doing constantly around Marie, and realised that now was not the time. Feeling his heart tighten, he wondered if there ever would be a time.

He was taken aback by the sudden smile that took a hold of Marie's features and the spark of excitement that flared into her eyes. "Cerebro!" she suddenly burst out. "The professor could try to find her with Cerebro!"


	3. A Shocking Discovery

"I won't accept it, Robert!" Karen screamed adamantly. "My son is _not_ a mutant!"

Her husband ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, although his own bitter despair masked his face. "But Karen! You've seen what he can do! We've both experienced it! It's not natural!"

"Don't you dare say that! Don't you dare say that my son is not natural!"

Robert shook his head defensively. "You know I didn't mean it like that. I meant not like other kids his age."

Karen gestured wildly towards the sitting room's large bay windows. "I have flyers in my window backing Senator Kelly's mutant registration act! I agree with him - mutants are not safe; they need to be controlled! And you're telling me that my own son is one?"

Robert sighed his frustration, having lost count of the number of times he had removed those blasted flyers from the window. He couldn't stand Senator Kelly or his primitive ideals. These were people he was talking about - not a herd of cattle to be rounded up and branded! "You put those flyers up? After I told you not to?"

"But the neighbours have - "

"I don't care a rat's-ass about the neighbours! If they set light to their mailboxes, would you have to as well?"

"What am I supposed to do then? You tell me! Change the flyers to a sign saying 'mutant lives here - come get us?' Or why don't I just paint a big black cross on my front door?"

"Now you're being juvenile!"

She seemed oblivious to his words, too caught up in her own private hell. "What am I supposed to do?" Tears pricked at her eyes and her shoulders sagged. "What in God's name am I supposed to do now?"

Robert reached for her, pulling her close. "Firstly, you stop saying _I_ and change it to _we_ \- _we'll_ get through this together. As a family." He hesitated before adding, somewhat warily: "And there's always the Xavier Institute where Marie is - "

Karen wrenched herself away from him, pointing viciously. "Don't you even dare think of sending my son to that freak show!"

"We could tell people that he's been sent away to a private school, if that's what you want," he insisted hopefully. "No one needs to know the truth."

Karen's whole face seemed to contort in hatred as she spoke the girl's name. " _Marie's_ family gave up on her long ago - it's the only way to ever hope to lead a normal life - why can't you do the same? She isn't even your daughter!"

Robert's eyes flared. "No! My daughter was driven away by your insistence that she was crazy!"

"Sarah _was_ crazy! You heard her - talking about goblins and monsters as if they were real!" Karen's folded her arms defiantly. "And I wasn't the only one who signed her away to that place, was I?"

Robert felt crushed by her words. "I just wanted to see her well again," he returned quietly.

Karen shook with anger. "It's all your fault, you know! They say that the mutant gene is passed through the male line. Your brother made Marie the way she is, and now you have done the same with my son!"

" _Our_ son! He is _our_ son!"

Karen cradled her stomach as fear flooded her severe features. "And what of this one? What hope is there for this unborn child if it is destined to inherit _your_ evil gene?"

Robert shook his head sadly. "What is it you have got against mutants that makes you despise them so much? They are human beings."

"Because they are an abomination, that's what! Unfit to walk God's earth!"

Robert was shocked by her declaration. He knew that Karen was deeply religious, indeed, Sarah's delusions were seen as possession by demons, but he had never witnessed it quite to this extent.

"You are saying that our son is an abomination?" he spoke in a lowered tone, barely able to contain his anger.

The tears pricked once again at Karen's eyes and she seemed to be fighting a battle within her. Furious as he was, Robert couldn't help but understand the torment that must be raging within her - to choose between her faith and her beloved child. Most people faced with such a predicament would've sought out a healthy balance between the two, but Karen's commitment to the church could, at times, border upon obsession.

"I thought God loved us all, Karen," he spoke gently, soothingly, as his anger abated. "Regardless of race, colour, creed, or...." he faltered, before adding: "mutation."

"Our. Son. Is. Not. A. Mutant!"

"No. He is a confused little boy needing our love and support."

Karen collapsed into the nearest chair, finally allowing the tears to flow. Reaching out to her husband for understanding, he reluctantly took her hand in his. "I don't know what to do, Robert. I love that boy more than life itself...but a mutant? I would rather he have died."

Her words came like a slap in the face, momentarily stunning him and he instantly released her hand. Through clenched teeth he hissed: "You would rather our son be dead?"

Karen ignored him, sobbing hysterically into her perfectly manicured hands.

Robert felt sickened as he watched her, accepting that he was finally at the end of his tether. Not only had she destroyed any life he might have had with Sarah, she was now proposing the same with Toby. And he would not lose another child due to her crazed beliefs.

He watched her a few moments longer realising what little spark of love he might have been clinging onto had been instantly gutted with that final declaration. He clenched a fist. He would have accepted everything else. Could have understood the turmoil within her and tried to help her get through it. But the fact that she would rather see her own child dead than accept him as a mutant...he found his fist rising and it proved a challenge to hold back the desire to hit her.

He took a deep breath and, instead, simply turned and walked away.

Although it wrenched at his heart knowing that she still carried his child, it was over.

_They_ were over.


	4. Queen of the Underground

Jareth watched Sarah as she slept; his eyes possessively devouring every inch of her, drinking her in like a fine wine until he felt intoxicated by her very presence.

The early morning sunlight spilt across her perfect features giving her an ethereal beauty that equalled any Fey, lending a brilliant sheen to her seductively dark hair that almost seemed to sparkle as if coated with a layer of fairy-dust.

He reached across to gently caress her cheek, still sprinkled an endearing red from sleep, and she stirred, murmuring something incomprehensible beneath her breath that made him smile warmly.

As her eyes slowly opened, blinking in the sunlight, she met his gaze and a lazy smile spread across her own lips. "Have you been watching me sleep again?"

Jareth frowned teasingly. "Is there some law saying that a husband cannot watch his wife sleep?"

Sarah's smile widened. "Well, you would know. You would've made it."

Laughing huskily, Jareth silenced her with a kiss, devouring her mouth with an urgency that took Sarah's breath away. She responded eagerly, overwhelmed as his tongue slipped between her lips and, as they duelled their passion, he realised that he would never tire of the taste of her, of making her heart race or of hearing her cry out his name in the throes of passion.

When they finally parted, breathing heavily, Sarah stared up at him, tiny flecks of desire darkening the olive-green of her eyes. "Make love to me, Jareth. Please?"

The Goblin King sighed. "Oh, I want to, Sarah. Just tasting you stirs me," he smiled mischievously. "In more ways than one."

Sarah couldn't conceal her disappointment. "You can't stay?"

Jareth slipped from the bed - an impressive mahogany four-poster, boasting lavish red velvet curtains and thick gold braiding - and began to dress. "I have an early meeting scheduled with my advisors this morning that unfortunately cannot be delayed."

Sarah reached out a long slender hand towards him. "I'm sure Kal wouldn't mind you being a few minutes late."

Jareth paused in his dressing and took her hand in his, kissing it tenderly. "This is important."

A hint of fear crept into Sarah's eyes. "Trouble?"

"We don't know yet."

"Can I help?" Sarah knew that it was a pointless question, that she was still very much a novice when it came to the political affairs of the kingdom but, as queen of the Underground now, she was desperate to take as active a role as possible in the running of her new domain.

"Thank you, Sarah. But on this occasion, I don't think so." Releasing her hand, he reached across the bed to caress her face tenderly. "But your eagerness to fulfil your role as my queen pleases me immensely." Their eyes locked and exchanged an intimacy that only lovers shared.

Pulling away again, he resumed his dressing. In the process of buttoning up his shirt, he gestured towards the window. "It is a beautiful day. Why not go for a walk in the castle gardens with Miandria?"

Sarah nodded. "I think I will." She looked thoughtful, however, something that did not go unnoticed.

Jareth watched her curiously. "Sarah? Is something on your mind?"

Sarah opened her mouth to speak but stopped before the words could flow.

"Sarah?" Jareth persisted.

She forced a smile. "Nothing. You go."

Jareth tucked his shirt into his dark navy britches and proceeded to attach a matte gold sash that served as a belt. "You are sure you are all right?"

Sarah sat up in bed, bringing her knees up to her chest to cradle them in her arms. "Peachy," she returned with a grin, sharing the in-joke that had become legendary between them now.

Jareth laughed heartily as he slipped on his jacket. It was a modest navy affair with red brocade and matte gold buttons that matched his belt, yet on the Goblin King's tall, lean frame it was instantly flattering.

As he stood there for a fleeting moment deep in contemplation, his beauty made Sarah's throat go dry. And it _was_ beauty, she realised wistfully. Handsome was too rough a word to describe him. As the sun shone through his fine golden hair and highlighted the sharp angles of his perfectly sculptured face, he looked every inch a king. A beautiful Fey king.

When he had gone, she stretched and ran long, slender fingers through her sleep-tousled hair. Yawning, she slipped from the bed and padded across the oak-wood floor to the window.

Undoing the latch, she opened it wide and leaned upon the smooth stone frame, admiring the scene that stretched out before her. She sighed contentedly, in awe of the place she now called home. _The Labyrinth._ No longer a torment to a naïve fifteen-year-old girl with one big chip on her shoulder, but a place of love and security to a woman recently crowned Queen.

Queen? Was she really Queen over all of this? The very idea still gave her goose bumps.

She had not noticed its beauty the first time around, too preoccupied with solving riddles and trying to save her baby brother, but today especially, as it glistened in the sunshine against a perfect clear blue sky, the Labyrinth looked more enchanting than ever.

She was about to close her eyes, the heat of the rising sun soothing upon her face, when she pulled back from the window with a start, nausea surging up through her in an angry wave. Bringing her hand to her mouth, she turned from the scene, standing a moment in a panic, and then fled to the water closet.

***

Jareth peered down at the map, a prominent frown distorting the distinct arch of his brows as he followed the journey of Kal's gloved finger.

"The ranger spotted him in the Northern Territories - here - with a sizeable army. At present, he has made camp in the Fire Plains. He has not entered any of the Northern Kingdoms, seeming intent on heading in one direction only."

Jareth met his cousin's eyes. "Here." It was not a question.

"Yes."

Jareth's frown deepened and he sighed heavily. "I have allowed my guard to weaken. It was inevitable that this would happen one day. Someone like Malakair does not forgive and forget."

Kal shook his head adamantly. "You had a kingdom to rule and its obligations to adhere to. Besides, so much time has passed. No one expected to ever see him again, not after he was banished." Kal grinned, his sky-blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "And someone like Sarah would make any man forget time and place."

Jareth grinned back. "That, I can not argue with." His smile swiftly died. "But," he continued seriously, "she cannot remain here. Not at such a critical time. It wouldn't be safe for her. Malakair hasn't got an army purely for the sake of it - he intends to storm the Underground."

Jareth swept a hand into the air, conjuring a perfect crystal. As it balanced upon the ends of his gloved fingers, he stared intently into its swirling depths.

Cursing angrily, he allowed the crystal to pop like a bubble. "Damn it! He is still not in close enough range. I need to determine the extent of this army of his."

Kal shrugged. "The ranger guessed at several hundred, but the light was failing and he didn't want to risk waiting until morning, feeling that his first priority was getting word to us of Malakair's position.

Jareth nodded. "He did well. His loyalty will not go unrewarded."

Kal watched Jareth steadily. "Where is Sarah to go?"

Jareth met his gaze once more. "Home."

"Home?"

"Back to her world."

Kal was taken aback. "Is that safe?" He hesitated before adding quietly, "Under the circumstances?"

"Safer than here," Jareth insisted firmly. "Of that I am certain."

***

Sarah groaned gently as she splashed her face with cold water. She felt as if someone had kicked her in the chest. Being sick wasn't much fun normally, but when there wasn't much to bring up, and all you seemed to be doing was retching, it could be very painful. But over the past few days, she just hadn't had much of an appetite.

Drying her face, she took a few deep breaths, relieved that the worst was over. She almost felt herself again, except for the dull ache in her chest. After dressing in a simple but pretty cornflower-blue ankle length gown, (the fanciful part of her still secretly revelling in the fashion styles of the Underground), she decided she would have a light breakfast with Miandria (although knowing Jareth's half-sister, she would probably be sleeping in again) and then they could take a walk around the gardens, as Jareth had suggested.

It was an hour later, (minus Miandria who _was_ indeed sleeping in), whilst she was admiring the red roses in the perfumed garden, that Jareth sought her out. She watched him in surprise as he approached.

"Jareth? I wasn't expecting - "

"Sarah -" he interrupted gravely, and the tension laced through his words sent tiny shards of fear through her.

She hurried over to join him. "What is it?"

"The trouble is worst than I first anticipated." He hesitated, the expression on his face offering sympathy despite its urgency. "You must leave the castle immediately."

His announcement stunned her and for a moment she was lost for words. "Leave?"

"Yes. There is no other alternative."

"But why?" She reached out for his hand and squeezed it gently, relishing in its warmth and security. "As Queen I should be here always, through better or worst." She smiled as she recalled Jareth's acceptance of human vows for their wedding. A Fey ritual was also carried out, something Sarah would never forget, but the fact that he had not expected her to abandon Earth completely had touched her deeply.

Jareth reached across to caress her cheek. "I really want to explain, but there is not the time. You must go now, and return only when it is safe to do so."

Sarah watched him nervously and it dawned on her that he was hiding something. "But where am I supposed to go?"

"Home."

"Home? But this is my home."

"Back to your world."

Sarah gaped at him, shocked by the very idea. "But...but you said that I could never go back. You said that once I chose to live in the Underground that option was closed to me. That our marriage bound me to this place."

Jareth looked mildly uncomfortable. "There are usually ways around these technicalities," he confessed quietly.

Sarah felt light headed as his words swam through her consciousness. "Are you telling me that all this time, when I so longed to go back to see Toby or my father, or anyone that meant something to me, I could've done? All along?" As the knowledge sunk in, Sarah felt tears prick at her eyes.

"It would have been difficult...and risky."

"But it could've been done?" Sarah snapped angrily. She ran her eyes over his face in bewilderment. "Did you lie to me?"

"No, Sarah. Not exactly. There were reasons why I didn't want you to go back."

"Why _you_ didn't want me to go back? Selfish reasons, no doubt!"

"No, not at all."

"If you were worried I wouldn't have come back...well, that's stupid. I love you, Jareth. This is my home."

"That isn't it at all, Sarah. I know that you love me. I love you too. With all my heart and soul." He took a step closer, cupping her face in his hands. "You make my life complete."

For a moment Sarah was lost in the depths of his eyes; unable to resist inhaling the raw masculine scent of him that so contradicted his ethereal beauty, yet made her go weak at the knees time and time again. He moved in to kiss her but remembering that he had lied to her, she pulled away.

"Tell me why then? Tell me why you wouldn't allow me to go back to Earth."

Jareth turned away. "I cannot. It is not safe to do so yet."

Sarah frowned her frustrations. "You're talking in riddles!"

"I did what was best under the circumstances."

"What circumstances?" Sarah raged. "All I know is that you kept me away from a brother I loved, knowing all along that I could've seen him at _any_ time!"

"It wasn't like that, Sarah!"

Sarah shook her head weakly, her whole world crashing down around her. "Suddenly I don't know you at all, Jareth. Lies? Deceit? What other of our wedding vows have you failed to uphold?"

"I have honoured every one of the vows I made to you, Sarah. You are speaking irrationally and need to calm down."

Sarah barely heard him. "Send me back then. Send me back right this minute." She glared at him. "Only don't expect me to come back."

She knew that she was saying things in the heat of the moment but she was so very angry. She loved Jareth more than life itself; couldn't exist without him; but for him to lie to her. _Lie_ to her?"

"You don't mean that," Jareth whispered desperately.

Sarah sighed her defeat. "No, I don't. Of course I don't. But please understand that right now I don't think I can even stand to look at you."

Jareth nodded, although his face filled with hurt. "I do want to tell you, Sarah. More than anything."

"Please, Jareth - save it. Just do what you have to do to send me back."

Jareth handed her a silver necklace with a clear crystal at the end. "When the crystal glows, it is safe for you to come back. The necklace itself also acts as a link between our worlds. Just hold it and wish yourself back."

"What? No ruby slippers?" Sarah mocked softly, instantly regretting her words. She gestured to her gown. "My clothes? My things? Money?" God, this was all so sudden! She could barely think straight.

"All will be rectified by the time you reach your world."

There was a moment's silence, and then Jareth insisted once more: "I love you, Sarah."

Sarah slipped the necklace around her neck. "I love you too, Jareth."

As she reached her hand up to clutch at the crystal, she felt the dread rise up within her, realising that she was actually terrified of going home. But at the same time, an excitement also stirred and began to course through her veins to dilute her unease.

Her heart began to gain momentum as she wished herself home.


	5. The Return of Sarah

Marie followed Professor Xavier and Logan into Cerebro, looking around wide- eyed, never failing to be blown away by the sheer scale of the 'big, round room' as Logan so affectionately called it. She had been with the X-Men for over three years now yet the technology secretly tucked away in the lower levels of the mansion still filled her with excitement. She would never have dreamed in a million years that she would be part of such a world.

As she drew up alongside Logan, she frowned when she saw him fumble around in his denim jacket's top pocket for a cigar. "Logan," she scolded quietly. "You know what the professor said!"

Professor Xavier was in the process of lowering Cerebro's mind connector onto his head but he hadn't failed to catch Marie's words. "Logan, I am starting to believe that you actually _want_ me to turn you into a six year old girl, _just_ so that Jean can braid your hair."

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Logan promptly returned the cigar to his pocket, although a hint of amusement sneaked into his face. Xavier's words struck more of a nerve with Marie, on the other hand, and she miserably peered down at her feet. She knew that Logan was a flirt; she knew that Jean loved Scott, and she was confident that nothing would ever happen between the two, yet just the thought of them together made her chest tighten.

"Marie," Xavier called quietly, and brushing aside her depressing thoughts, Marie hurried over to his side. "Since we have already connected telepathically, I have a vague idea of what Sarah looks like. Unfortunately, however, your memories of her are somewhat dated so I need you to concentrate hard on the images Cerebro offers us. I also find it harder to connect to non-mutants than mutants, so please do not get your hopes up too high. He reached for her hand and squeezed gently. "Also understand that if Sarah is....dead...then I will not be able to locate her at all. But just because I don't locate her, it doesn't mean she is necessarily dead." He hesitated before adding sympathetically: "It is a very awkward situation. But I will try my best."

Marie returned the squeeze. "I understand, Professor. And I appreciate you doing this," she was fleetingly besieged with premature grief. "Whatever the outcome."

The Professor released her hands and made one final adjustment to the apparatus upon his head. He closed his eyes as Marie took a step back again to stand with Logan.

"Chin up, kid," he offered as he fleetingly caught her gaze. "If anyone can locate Sarah, Chuck can."

"But what if he can't, Logan?"

Logan met her eyes. "Then I'll be here for you," he insisted softly.

Marie thought back to a time, long ago, when Logan had offered similar sentiments on a train. And which he had upheld - for most of the time. But even when he _was_ gone months at a time chasing his mysterious past, he still remained in contact with her and the Professor, even sending her the occasional _I heart Canada_ postcards, much to everyone's amusement.

"Promise?" she teased, but Logan's eyes were surprisingly serious.

"Yeah."

Marie smiled timidly at him. "Thanks, Logan." Inside, her heart was racing and the anticipation had drained away all the moisture from her mouth, making it painful to swallow. She didn't know whether it was due to the look in his eyes, or Sarah.

She returned her attention back to Cerebro just as images burst violently into the room, making her start. Logan steadied her as she quickly recovered and she gaped in amazement at the Professor's display of power.

"As you know, the red lights are all of the mutants," the Professor explained, somewhat fondly, "more and more are becoming known to me every day." Marie watched with a hopeful smile tugging at her lips, realising that they really _weren't_ alone. "And these...." the Professor continued, as the colours slowly changed from deep red to a brilliant silver-white. "Are all of the humans."

"It's so beautiful," Marie whispered, awe-struck.

The lights grew larger, becoming more distinct images, as men, women and children were sucked into the foreground for fleeting seconds before being wrenched once more into the background. Several minutes passed of this continuing pattern during which Marie slowly began to lose hope.

"I am sorry, Marie," the Professor started, "I just cannot seem to find her."

"Then try harder," Logan suggested impatiently.

Marie shot him a dangerous look and he shrugged defensively. "Perhaps it takes a little longer with non-mutants."

Marie turned back to the human images continuing to flash by, feeling the tears prick at her eyes. They weren't going to find her. Sarah _must_ be dead.

The Professor concentrated harder and the whole room hummed with the energy he and Cerebro were mutually creating. "Sarah? Where _are_ you?" They heard him whisper desperately beneath his breath. "I sense somehow that you are still alive...so why will you not show yourself?"

The human images sped by faster, barely discernible now as the Professor upped his awareness even further. Marie was beginning to become overwhelmed by it all. It was frightening yet exhilarating at the same time. Logan fidgeted beside her and she could sense that he, too, was noticing the change in Cerebro's energy levels, that the Professor had never tried to locate mutant - or human - quite this intensively before.

"He's not going to hurt himself, is he?"

"Chuck knows what he's doin', kid. Try to relax."

Marie could see by the way Logan was running a hand across the back of his neck that he was having a hard time trying to relax himself.

"Got her!" The Professor suddenly burst out elatedly, pleasant surprise echoing through his words.

Marie gasped as Sarah - an older but still recognisable Sarah - appeared in the foreground. She seemed disorientated, and appeared to be clutching frantically at something around her neck. "Where is she?" Marie demanded, unconsciously reaching out towards the image of her cousin.

To her deep disappointment, the image was suddenly swept away as the intensity of the Professor's powers finally became too much for him and all of the bright lights dimmed and died, swiftly returning the room to its original state. It was quite an anti-climax and Marie was left feeling strangely abandoned.

As he slipped off the mind connector, replacing it back onto Cerebro's main control station and turned slowly in his wheelchair, the Professor looked warily puzzled.

"That was most irregular," he insisted gently.

"What was?" Logan questioned, pleased it was all over and already retrieving a cigar from his pocket.

"I was certain that Sarah was not there. I have never had to put so much effort into locating anyone before. And yet, suddenly, she appears as if from nowhere. And right on our doorstep at that." He wheeled towards them, shaking his head, perplexed. "I think Hank and I should discuss this unexpected anomaly more thoroughly."

"But where is _right on our doorstep_?" Marie pleaded urgently.

The Professor smiled warmly up at her. "She is here in New York, Marie. In the place your memories offered me as her home."

Marie shook her head in bewilderment. "Sarah is at home? But how can that be? Her father told me she was missing."

"Perhaps she has only just returned home?" Logan suggested.

The Professor seemed unconvinced. "She is home, that I cannot deny. Yet there was something strange about her sudden return. And it _was_ sudden or else I would've located her immediately."

"What do you mean by strange, Chuck?" Logan probed.

The Professor frowned. "I am not quite sure."

As they left Cerebro, Marie was uninterested in the how's or where's for now, all she knew was that Sarah was alive! Alive! And she was merely a short car journey away! This was turning into the best Christmas ever. All it needed now was for Logan to bundle her up into his arms and carry her to his bedroom and her happiness would be complete! She offered him a fleeting glance, taken aback to discover him watching her intensely.

"Happy, kid?"

"Ecstatic!" Marie gushed, swiftly burying her desires for Logan beneath her mounting delight. "But do you know what will make me even more so?"

Logan raised a quizzical eyebrow. 

"For you to _stop_ calling me kid!"


	6. Reunions

Sarah warily opened her eyes, not having thought to ask exactly where Jareth's magic would transport her. To her relief and instant delight, however, she realised that she was back in her old bedroom.

At least, what used to be her bedroom. As she looked about her, it seemed to be in the process of being turned into a child's nursery, all but one wall that still remained bare had been papered with brightly coloured clowns and balloons.

A nursery? Was Karen expecting again?

Sarah experienced a moment of panic. Actually, what if this wasn't even their house anymore? What if they had moved and she had been transported into someone else's house? Three years was a long time to be away, anything could've happened, and she hastily scanned the room, frantic for some piece of evidence that her family still, in fact, lived here.

She sighed deeply when she realised that the crib was Toby's old one, she would recognise it anywhere, remembering that Karen had paid handsomely to have it hand crafted. Calm surrounded her again as she walked slowly over to it, the memories flooding back to her as she tenderly caressed the whitewashed wood. Recalling how she had wished the poor little kid away just because he has been crying and she had been in yet another sorry-for- herself mood. She grimaced at the thought of the horrible teenager she had been back then, accepting that Toby hadn't been the spoilt brat - she had.

But, she decided firmly, she wouldn't change a thing. For without her petty behaviour, without her tormenting adventures in the Labyrinth, she would never have met Jareth. The beautiful Fey King who had captured her heart...eventually.

She sighed gently, missing him already. Reaching up to clutch at the crystal around her neck, she hoped that it wouldn't be too long before it glowed and she could go back home. Her true home.

Moving away from the crib, she acknowledged her clothes for the first time. Jareth's magic had changed her into the jeans and burgundy sweater she still liked to wear on occasions in the Underground. Her shoes, tan slip- on's, she didn't recognise, but were not unlike those she had worn during that infamous first visit to the Labyrinth. She rolled her eyes, bemused. Jareth was a sucker for nostalgia, and even though she had been far too young for him during their first encounter, he often referred to her more wilful period with teasing affection.

She also noticed a large suitcase-sized carpetbag that had presumably been transported with her. Upon closer inspection she realised it contained a selection of her toiletries, clothes, as well as a wallet containing a decent amount of cash. She smiled, despite herself. Jareth thought of everything.

She looked around her, wondering what the hell she was supposed to do now. Just step into the sitting room and announce: "Hi, I'm back!"

A shiver ran down her spine as she recalled those last six months she had spent on earth before Jareth had so dramatically rescued her. She still couldn't believe that her father had allowed Karen to send her to such an awful place and she had to admit that she still hadn't quite forgiven him.

Returning brought back all those bad memories and the added fear that Karen could send her right back again.

"You're a woman now, Sarah," she reassured herself quietly beneath her breath. "Karen no longer has _any_ hold over you."

Picking up the carpetbag and slipping its leather handle onto her shoulder, she took a deep breath and made to leave the room.

"Sarah?"

Her father stood, dumbstruck, on the upstairs landing. "Sarah?" he repeated hoarsely. His face flooded with mixed emotion - fear, concern and disbelief - although joy was predominant.

Sarah was shocked by his appearance. He looked pale and drawn, thinner than she remembered, and he obviously hadn't shaven in a few days. His usually impeccably groomed hair was uncombed and his eyes - Sarah was taken aback - he looked as if he had been crying recently.

"Daddy?" she whispered hesitantly, unconsciously resorting to a child's reference.

Her father remained rooted to the spot. "Sarah? Is it really you?" He ran a shaking hand through his hair. "Or am I hallucinating? I haven't had a whole lot of sleep these past few days."

Sarah smiled warmly. "No, dad. It's really me. I'm back."

"Back?"

"Yeah."

There was a strained moment when neither of them knew what to do next and then Sarah found herself crushed into her father's chest as he hugged her tightly, his still shaking hand stroking her hair. "Oh, my god, Sarah. Sarah! I've missed you so much. I thought you were dead. Oh, god, Sarah. Can you ever forgive me?"

Sarah could feel warm tears drip into her hair but she, herself, was crying too, overwhelmed to see him again. "Oh dad, of course I forgive you," and despite her earlier reservations she realised that she _did_ really forgive him. "I've missed you so much, too. And Toby. God, I've missed Toby. Where is he? Can I see him?"

At that, her father eased out of their embrace, holding her at arm's length. "Karen and Toby have gone, Sarah."

"Gone?"

"They left two days ago. Karen and I had been arguing again - the marriage was literally over. But Toby's mutation tipped things over the edge - "

Sarah watched him in disbelief. "Toby is a mutant?" she gasped.

Her father nodded. "I was trying to convince Karen to take him to that Xavier Institute, where your cousin Marie is, but she would have none of it." His face darkened with anger. "So while I was at work she upped and left with Toby, taking most of their things."

"Oh dad. I'm so sorry."

"I'm not sorry about Karen - the marriage had been dead a long time. I was trying to make it work for Toby's sake. But, god damn it, he's my son, too and she had no right taking him like this. I don't even know where they've gone," he despaired. His eyes turned glassy with suppressed tears. "I felt as if I had lost both my children."

Sarah reached across to clasp his hand. "Well, I'm here now. We'll find Toby. Together."

"But where have you been all this time? I've had people out searching for you. Professionals."

Sarah was stunned by his words. "You did that for me?"

"Despite what you might think, I love you, Sarah. I've always loved you. You're my daughter." He squeezed her hand. "But tell me? Did you leave the country? It was the only conclusion I could come to."

Sarah knew that now wasn't the right time to tell him about Jareth or the Underground. She wondered if there ever would be a right time, under the circumstances. She _did_ forgive him for signing her away to the mental institution, but was still wary of what might happen if the conversation steered back to the very things that got her committed in the first place.

"Dad, I'd rather not talk about that now. Let's sort _you_ out. You look as if you could do with a strong coffee and a meal." Sarah hesitated. "What time is it here?"

Her father looked at her strangely. "Almost ten."

Sarah glanced across at the window, noting that it was dark. Ten in the evening, she surmised. As she followed her father down the stairs, she was surprised to notice Christmas decorations. "It's Christmas?" she whispered questioningly.

In her first year living in the Underground, she had tried her utmost to celebrate Christmas and introduce it to those around her. But it wasn't to be. Everyone else was too used to their own customs and celebrations. No one seemed interested, although Jareth tried his hardest to indulge her. So, as the years had passed, she had simply tried to forget all about it and adjust to her new way of life.

Her father hesitated on the stairs. "It's Christmas day, Sarah." He peered back at her anxiously. "Are you OK?"

Sarah forced a smile. "I'm fine, dad. Now, let me make you a belated Christmas dinner and we can spend some quality time together. You go shave and tidy yourself up."

Her father smiled, obviously touched by her words. "I can't believe that you're home. Some wishes do come true, after all."

Sarah reached down to hug him again, relishing his warmth. "Merry Christmas, dad."

"Merry Christmas, Sarah."

As they parted and her father made to return back upstairs, Sarah hesitated, looking up the stairs at him. "Dad?"

"Yes?"

"Toby's mutation? What is it? It isn't..." she faltered. "The same as Marie's, is it?"

Sarah had been distraught when Marie's mutation had taken affect. Distraught for Marie, who might never be able to touch, or experience touch, again. She had tried to be as unaffected as possible, for her cousin's sake, although gloves had been reluctantly worn when they had been together.

"We're not sure exactly," her father began. "That's why I wanted to take him to see Professor Xavier."

"What is it...basically?"

Her father looked thoughtful, although there could be no mistaking the fear and apprehension that swept across his face. "Something to do with time. He seems to be able to influence time. Only subtly, so far, like making his dessert reappear after he has eaten it, or re-starting a cartoon on TV after it had finished; and it only seems to affect his own perception of time." Her father sighed. "It's very hard to explain or even begin to try to understand."

Sarah gaped at him and the blood seemed to drain from her face. She suddenly had a flashback, of her first visit to the Labyrinth:

"I have reordered time! I have turned the world upside down...and I have done it all for you!"

"You're telling me that Toby can re-order time?" she whispered shakily.

"Re-order time?" Her father nodded. "Yes, I suppose that's another way of putting it."

Fearing she was about to faint, Sarah lowered herself down upon the nearest step. "Oh, god," was all she could manage under the circumstances. "This can't be happening."

Running her fingers through her hair, she was suddenly met with a worrying and perplexing thought.

Was this the reason why Jareth hadn't wanted her to see Toby?


	7. Suppressed Emotions

Back at the Xavier Institute, the Christmas festivities continued. The younger residents had been given permission to stay up later than usual - now somewhat subdued, having worn themselves out during the course of the day - and were watching 'Oliver Twist' on TV with none other than Gambit, who explained with a twinkle in his deep red eyes that it was a movie close to his heart. 

Kitty, St John, Bobby and Jubilee had moved on from Twister to play a less physical game, although Scrabble proved to be no less hormonal driven when the rules had been altered slightly to see who could make the dirtiest words. Jubilee, the more daring of the group, appeared to be winning.

Sipping their mulled wine, Scott, Hank and the Professor were chatting animatedly on the spacious settees opposite a crackling open fire. Jean and Storm had just returned from the kitchen with some nibbles left over from the evening buffet.

"Have you seen Logan or Marie?" the Professor enquired as Jean held a tray in front of him, deciding at the last moment to do so manually rather than use her powers.

"They're in the kitchen drinking beer," she revealed gently as Charles took great consideration over the selection upon her tray.

"They should join us," he insisted firmly, selecting one of the more generously sized vol-o-vonts.

"You know Logan," Storm offered, with her usual warm smile as Scott helped himself from her own tray. "If he socialises for too long he gets grouchy. It's just not in his nature."

"He seems to be creeping out of his shell a bit though," Hank added, the grace in which he placed his glass of wine upon the coffee table before them quite a contrast to the sheer bulk of the blue hairy arm performing the action. "He has spent most of today with us, even if it has been from a distance."

"I'm glad it _was_ from a distance," Scott put in with a grimace, popping a bite sized sausage roll in his mouth. "Or we'd all have been poisoned by those damn cigars of his. How many of those things does that guy smoke in one day?"

The Professor shrugged. "Well, we didn't really help matters. How many boxes did he receive as gifts? Six was it?"

Jean grinned as she placed the tray of nibbles onto the table beside Hank's glass of wine. "But what else besides a six-pack of beer do you buy the Wolverine?"

"All men are difficult to buy for, in my opinion," Storm insisted, rolling her eyes in exasperation. A nod from Jean backed her up.

"How is Marie, in regards to her cousin?" the Professor enquired as Jean sat back down beside him.

"In much better spirits having visited Cerebro," Jean reassured. "That was a nice thing you did for her, considering it was Christmas day."

"I was happy to help," the Professor returned softly. "Although I must admit that I found the experience deeply perplexing." He turned to Hank with a questioning frown. "The studies you have been doing with Nightcrawler...have you been able to determine actually where he disappears to during that brief moment of transportation?"

"Not quite," Hank revealed, frustration apparent in his words. "I am still trying to build up enough data to support my theory."

"Which is?" Scott asked, intrigued.

"That he actually enters another dimension," Hank answered confidently, eyes flaring excitedly at the prospect.

"And what has this to do with Marie?" Scott pressed.

"Well," the Professor started. "I am certain that Marie's cousin was not contactable when I first began using Cerebro to try to locate her. Which meant that she was either dead or simply not here. On Earth."

"Not on Earth? But that's impossible," Scott said, somewhat taken aback. "Where else could she be?"

"That is what we need to determine," Charles returned determinedly. "And why I now have an even greater interest in these studies with Nightcrawler." Looking thoughtful, he swept his gaze across to Storm, "When is Kurt due back from Germany?"

"Tomorrow," she reminded, having been listening to the conversation with interest. "After the finale of the circus's Christmas show."

"You really think Marie's cousin might have been in another dimension when you first tried to contact her?" Scott continued, appearing to find it hard to accept such an incredible revelation. "Couldn't you have just found it more difficult this time? It _was_ rather sudden, and you hadn't really prepared before hand, like you usually do."

"I cannot deny that it is a possibility," the Professor reluctantly agreed. He hesitated, seeming to ponder. "However, instinct tells me it was something _much_ more."

***

"Do you think we could go to see Sarah tomorrow?" Marie asked gently, cradling a bottle of beer in her hands. Logan sat opposite her in the empty kitchen, a haphazard assortment of paper plates, half-filled with leftover buffet food, filling the space between them.

He shrugged. "It's Christmas, Marie. Wouldn't they want some family time?"

"I am family," Marie insisted. "Besides," she added, somewhat forlornly. "Uncle Robert is all alone. Or was, until Sarah presumably returned."

Logan raised an enquiring eyebrow. "Alone? What about your aunt and cousin Tony?"

"Toby," Marie corrected, with a teasing roll of her eyes. "And as for the Wicked Witch of the West, the bitch walked out on him a couple of days ago, taking Toby with her. He didn't say why. I actually offered for him to spend Christmas here - I was sure that the Professor wouldn't mind - but he declined."

"Why don't you phone again?" Logan suggested, before taking another swig from his bottle.

"I considered it but if Sarah _is_ really back, I want to see her face to face now. Especially after the shock of thinking she was dead." Marie met his eyes and he hesitated in his drinking, lowering the bottle slightly but still keeping it pressed to his lips. "I want to be able to - " she faltered.

Logan moved the bottle from his mouth. "What?"

A hint of a smile tugged at Marie's lips. "To touch her. Hug her. You know, _feel_ that she is alive. But this time without the gloves. I want to surprise her with this new control over my mutation."

Logan lowered his beer back to the table. "It was a surprise to us all, Marie," he revealed quietly. "One hell of a surprise."

Reminded of one of _the_ best days of her life, Marie lifted her hand before her face, smile widening as she admired the nails she had painted bright purple that morning with one of the ten polishes that Jubilee had bought her for Christmas. "It's strange really," she began wistfully. "When I was wearing the gloves all the time, I never bothered to make an effort with my hands, but now I love wearing polish and having manicures and stuff. I feel like an excited teenager again, experimenting with make- up."

Logan glanced down at her long slender hand with mixed emotions. So much exposed skin, even something as innocent as Marie's hand, still proved highly provocative. 

"They would look better red," he teased with a grin, whilst at the same time trying to keep his thoughts from wandering down one of _many_ erotic paths concerning Marie. "Sexier."

Marie grinned back. "I like purple," she offered in her defence, although there was mischief in her eyes. "But if red is sexier, perhaps I'll give it a whirl."

She reached down and took a sausage from one of the buffet plates. Moving it towards her mouth, she eased it slowly off its stick.

Logan found himself mesmerised by her actions. They were deliberately teasing, and the stirring of emotions returned to his chest and, more predominantly, his groin. Marie's eyes blazed daringly and he clutched his bottle tighter, his gaze locked on her beautiful mouth as it chewed delicately, before licking the grease from her bottom lip.

"Want one, sugar?" she drawled huskily and Logan's heart rate gained momentum as she took another sausage, leaned across the table, and offered it to him. Totally bewitched, he moved his mouth to claim it.

Marie smirked, returning back to her chair and dropping the now empty stick back onto the plate.

"So, can we?" she implored.

"Can we, what?" Logan managed hoarsely, still overwhelmed by the highly erotic moment that had just passed.

"Go to see Sarah tomorrow?" She pondered before adding, hopefully: "On your bike?"

"The snow is too thick," he insisted promptly, finally gaining control of his senses once more. "Doesn't make for safe riding."

"Since when does the big bad Wolverine care about being safe?" Marie joked, although there was still a definite undercurrent of innuendo laced through her words.

"If you're on the back, the Wolverine cares a hell of a lot. If we had an accident, I can heal. You can't."

Marie shrugged. "You could always heal me," she reminded with a warm smile. But the smile quickly died when she realised the enormity of such a casual remark. She met his eyes apologetically. "Sorry, Logan. That was very selfish of me to say that. Healing me isn't a whole lot of fun for you."

"But worth it," Logan insisted adamantly as a strained tension filled the air around them. It wasn't negative but neither was it positive. And it reeked of mutual fear. A fear of perhaps, one day, not being together to make the life-saving connection should the situation arise again.

Logan swept his gaze across the table, away from Marie, uncomfortably rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "Besides," he offered, in an attempt to relieve some of the discomfort. "Haven't you got enough of me in that crowded head of yours?"

"I could never get enough of you, Logan," she responded, in little more than a whisper. "Surely you've realised that by now?"

Logan knew that it was mainly the drink talking - this was Marie's third beer - but it still set his throat on fire to hear her say it. Meeting her eyes once more, he didn't know just how long he could stand to remain in limbo like this. He wanted her; she wanted him...what were they waiting for? Why were they torturing themselves like this?

_Because you think you're not good enough for her_ , his alter ego growled angrily from a corner of his fragmented mind, but he chose to ignore the Wolverine on this occasion even though he knew he was right.

"We could take the jeep," he eventually offered as the Wolverine despaired at his cowardice. "It'll take to the road better."

Marie looked disappointed but Logan knew that it didn't have anything to do with going in the jeep instead of on the bike.

"You'll take me then?" she asked, obviously trying to summon back some of her earlier enthusiasm.

"On one condition."

Marie chewed down upon her lip in anticipation. "What?" she implored hopefully.

"That you make that your last beer."

She frowned. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to spend the remainder of Christmas day listening to you chuck up your turkey dinner."

Marie pushed the beer to one side. "You take me to see Sarah and I'll do anything you say."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Anything?"

"Anything," she literally purred.

And Logan was lost all over again.


	8. Strange Tactics

Jareth paced the throne room impatiently, hands held tightly behind his back, pale brow clenched into a frown of discontent. His second-in-command, standing at the window, turned from the view and rolled his eyes despairingly.

"Sit, Jareth. Please. My father will _be_ here!"

Jareth halted mid-stride and fixed his cousin with an icy stare. "Time is short, Kal. Every second we delay, Malakair and his army move another step closer to the Labyrinth."

"You don't know that," Kal pointed out. "The Ranger said that they appeared to have made camp at the Fire Plains," he hesitated before adding: "And the fact that they still don't seem to be in crystal-range supports this."

Jareth's frown deepened and his confusion simmered into anger. "But it makes no sense. Why should he stop there? He is surrounded by the Northern Kingdoms, none of whom are likely to turn a blind eye to the fact that he is virtually camping out on their doorsteps. Your father's city is barely twenty leagues from those plains. Even with an army of several thousand, Malakair would be no match for _all_ of them, should they unite."

Kal glanced back out of the window, scanning the distant outer walls of the Labyrinth warily. "I admit that it _is_ strange. If he doesn't make a move soon, a Ranger is not going to be his only visitor."

Jareth resumed his pacing, his leather riding boots pounding the stone floor with added zealous this time. "I wish my uncle would make haste. I will feel better amongst his council."

Kal grinned teasingly. "You find my council wanting?"

Jareth sighed, his cousin's humour wasted on him. "Of course not, Kal. I just," he met Kal's smile with a severe expression. "I just have much on my mind. This has all happened so quickly." He halted in his pacing once more. "And I am worried about Sarah."

"That is to be expected," Kal offered gently. "But she is intelligent and has a strong will. She can take care of herself."

"Even so, I may send Miandria to accompany her. My half-sister can be a little wearisome at times but I believe she has Sarah's best interests at heart. The two have become good friends since the wedding."

Kal seemed to have reservations. "That's if the woman can manage to get her lazy hide out of bed."

Jareth smiled sheepishly. "I admit that she is a little spoilt, but my father doted on her."

"A little?" Kal shook his head, at a loss. "Her beauty does not compensate for the maintenance she requires!" Folding his arms, Kal lent back against the castle wall, his eyes questioning. "How has she taken the news that her brother has returned?"

"She was surprisingly dismissive of him," Jareth returned. "Too preoccupied by her latest gown, I think. But then, she and Malakair barely know one another. They were only children when my father took Miandria into his care."

Kal clicked his teeth in annoyance. "Another gown? Why am I not surprised? She and Sarah couldn't be more different and I am still surprised that they have become so close."

At the mention of Sarah, Jareth's face fell. "I miss her, Kal," he admitted softly. "More than I ever thought possible. It seems strange not having her around."

There was a strained moment of silence before Kal returned to the window and Jareth resumed his pacing. "Try to relax," Kal offered finally as his gaze moved beyond the Labyrinth's outer walls to the snow capped mountains upon the horizon. "You and Sarah will soon be reunited, never fear."

Jareth couldn't share his optimism, however. He had a bad feeling about this. Seeing Sarah disappear, especially after they had parted on anxious terms, had filled him with foreboding and he wondered, with a sense of dread, if he had made a mistake sending her back home.

In an attempt to distract himself from such worrying thoughts, he focused on his half-brother, clenching his gloved fists angrily. _Malakair!_ Even the mere thought of him churned his insides like a rotten meal; his very name like acid upon his tongue. How dare that man show his face again! How dare he! Jareth's hands shook as anger coursed through his veins.

Yet fear travelled the same path, lacing through his rage to betray the power and strength of character he tried so hard to carry at all times. Fear of the unknown. Fear of losing Sarah. Fear of things being changed forever.

"Jareth?" Kal called quickly across the room, alarmed to note the sudden panic that had taken hold of his cousin's fine features. "Are you alright?"

"I will be," Jareth insisted firmly. "Once I drop Malakair in an oubliette so I can forget all about him. Once and for all."

Composing himself, The Goblin King slowly unclenched his fingers, forcing himself to remain calm, realising that the question he should be more concerned with was _why_ his half-brother had decided to return.

He could only think of one reason, and if that were the case, the Labyrinth would not be the only thing in danger.

***

Malakair stared at his reflection in the large ornate mirror, one side of his face eclipsed by shadow with only the glint of an eye visible. The remaining half of his pale countenance he purposely positioned so that it was cast in soft candlelight, the contrast of light and dark fascinating him for a fleeting moment. The flickering flames scattered around the large tent, not only brought illumination to his temporary bedchamber, but emphasised the thin, perfectly straight scar that claimed his right cheek. He smiled, running a finger down its length, distant memories filling him with smug satisfaction.

His forty years had been kind, he acknowledged with arrogant pride. Having Fey blood, however weak, was not without its rewards. Not a line or wrinkle to his name. Hair and immaculately groomed beard not even touched by the silver of age. His face was still handsome, he thought vainly. The scar - his only flaw - could have almost been added intentionally, for it bestowed that appearance of menace and power he had always desired. He grinned, deciding he should have thanked his half-brother.

Running his hands down the length of his chest, he continued his inspection, the coolness of his silk robes most pleasurable beneath his fingers. Clothes, fit for a king, crafted by words and incantation, adorned his lean body, moulded to flatter and perfect. Pressing hard into flesh where muscle still held firm, he delighted in the fact that even his stomach retained the solidness of his youth.

Moving his position slightly he suddenly caught his gaze once more and what his eyes offered sent a shiver the length of his spine. Such strength, he savoured, such power! Surrendering to the dark side had offered him all and there was no turning back now, even if he wanted to.

Malakair swept his hand dismissively in front of the mirror and it instantly vanished, little more than an illusion conjured for a moment's indulgence. Narrowing his eyes he made to leave the tent, ready to execute the next stage of his plans, knowing that he would never be able to rest until certain events of the past were changed to what they should've been.

His dark eyes blazed treacherously.

Jareth would live to regret banishing him all those years ago.


	9. Empty Expectations

Unable to sleep Marie sat up in bed with a sigh, bringing her knees to her chest to cradle them in her arms.

Damned brain, she despaired, exhausted. It just wouldn't let her sleep. It was bad enough normally, what with having several incompatible personas kicking around in there, but tonight it was busy with her own conflicts.

Well, not all conflicts exactly. Part of her was being kept wide-awake through sheer excitement of seeing Sarah again. She had missed her cousin desperately these past few years, especially during those first scary months on the road, before she had run into Logan.

Many times she had been so close to calling her, even to the point of partly dialling her aunt and uncles' number. But each time she had replaced the receiver, chickened-out, for reasons she still hadn't fully acknowledged to this day.

It had nothing to do with the mutation, for Sarah had been the only one who had responded with tact and sensitivity when it first took effect, and more to do with the simple fact that, however much Sarah had appeared to remain unaffected by what had happened, they _were_ different now: mutant and non- mutant. Destined to be enemies in a world that expected nothing less. A barrier had been placed between them, the innocence of a precious past they had shared lost forever.

Heavy hearted, Marie closed her eyes, dropping her head to her knees. Here at the mansion she was with people the same as her. People she could relate to and who weren't forced to feign indifference, however genuine their intent. She loved Sarah for making that effort but knew that she had received a lot of grief over it from those who weren't as tolerant of mutants.

It had been a better alternative for all involved just to sever the attachment once and for all. Hadn't it?

Marie felt the tears prick at her eyes. What a crock of shit, she chastised herself bitterly. What a waste of a precious friendship. And all those years Sarah had been in that mental institution, when she, herself, would've desperately needed a friend. Marie felt awful for not being there for her. Sarah must have hated her. Might still hate her.

There was going to be a lot to make amends for, and although she _was_ excited about seeing Sarah again, she was also frightened that their time spent apart might have changed their relationship for the worst.

Relationships? Marie sighed again realising that Sarah's wasn't the only relationship that weighted upon her mind. Lifting her head to glance across the half-light of her bedroom, her gaze sought out the silhouettes of the Christmas presents she had received that day.

She could easily make out Logan's contribution amongst the various shapes on her dresser. His box was taller than the rest and, along with the Labyrinth book, the most cherished. The fact that he had even remembered a conversation shared months earlier, when Marie had admitted to having loved to collect porcelain dolls as a child, had touched her deeply. The idea of him browsing endless gift shops to find one especially named Marie, even more so. She smiled wistfully in the half-light, feeling the familiar stirrings of butterflies in her stomach.

She loved him so much it hurt sometimes. And wanted him physically with such intensity that she seemed to be in a constant state of arousal when she was around him. However embarrassed the idea of that made her feel, surely the Wolverine, with his heightened senses, wouldn't have failed to notice it?

Her smile wavered and died. No, of course he wouldn't have failed to pick up on her desire for him. He _was_ the Wolverine after all - literally sex on legs. And the fact that he had not responded to it forced her to accept that her feelings must be unrequited.

And yet recently, Marie agonised, he seemed different. More attentive. And much more tactile. He had never feared her mutation like some of the other residents of the mansion, but since she had gained control over her skin he seemed to find any excuse to touch her, however innocently.

Marie lay back down and turned on her side, clutching her pillow possessively.

"Oh Logan," she whispered despondently beneath her breath. "I have you in my head yet I don't really know you at all."

***

It only seemed a heartbeat later that she was woken by the sound of knocking on her door. In fact it was several hours.

"You awake, Marie?"

She sat up in bed, blinking in the morning sunshine. "Logan?" she muttered sleepily. Turning, she glanced at the bedside clock. "Shit!"

"Marie?" the voice persisted.

"I overslept!" she shouted in frustration. "Sorry, Logan. Can you give me twenty minutes?"

Muffled chuckling sounded from behind the door. "I told you not to drink so much beer last night."

Marie sighed gently beneath her breath. "It had nothing to do with the beer," she whispered miserably to herself.

There was a moment's uncomfortable silence and Marie was concerned that Logan's heightened senses might have picked up her words. She was about to call his name when he spoke again.

"I'll be waiting in the garage. The jeep might need filling up before we set out."

She allowed herself to relax. "Ok," she returned. "Thanks, Logan."

***

Logan discovered Scott in the spacious garage, in the process of carrying out some maintenance on his bike. Although Logan used the vehicle far more often, One Eye continued to claim her as his own, although their joint possessiveness had become less intense over the years and more teasing banter.

"You've been riding her too hard again," Scott insisted with a scowl, wagging an oily wrench at him angrily.

Logan raised an eyebrow, although Scott appeared oblivious to the innuendo in his choice of words. "She's a motorbike not a scooter," the Wolverine growled. "She likes a good ride. That's what she was designed for."

Scott replaced the wrench in his toolbox and stood up rubbing his hands clean on a rag. "What are you doing here anyway, Logan? You can't be wanting to ride in that." He gestured out the garage door to the thick snow that spread out like a white blanket across the mansion grounds. "It's six inches deep out there."

"I'm here for the jeep. I'm taking Marie to see her cousin."

"Oh."

Logan grinned. That shut him up.

"She OK?" Scott enquired, and regardless of how pathetic it was, Logan couldn't help but feel a spark of jealousy ignite within him at the concern in his voice. Scott and Jean were married now but that hadn't stopped One Eye and Marie becoming close recently.

Logan had brought it on himself really, asking Scott to take over Marie's combat training when she had gained control over her mutation, making the excuse of being too busy training the younger x-kids. It was a lie, of course, but the idea of having the life sucked out of him had just been enough to keep the Wolverine reined. Now her skin was safe to touch, however, and he could no longer trust that animalistic part of him that hungered for _his_ Marie.

"She's fine," Logan snarled back.

Scott frowned behind his visor. "I was only asking, Logan. You don't have to snap my head off."

Logan scrubbed a hand over his face. "Sorry. Didn't sleep well last night."

Scott accepted the apology with a dismissive nod. "The nightmares?"

Logan shook his head, conscious of the fact that most of the mansion residents were aware of his sleep problems by now. "Nah. Other stuff."

Scott sighed and Logan was sure that he had just rolled his eyes behind those ruby red lenses of his.

"What?" he demanded gruffly.

Scott took a step closer to him, reaching out a hand to rest it lightly on Logan's arm. "None of us mind, Logan," he offered gently. "She's a woman now. With her own mind. We'd be happy for you."

Logan stared at him in disbelief, too stunned to feel angry at the invasion of his personal space.

"Besides," Scott added with a teasing smirk as he removed his hand, seeming to delight in Logan's discomposure. "My bet was on you two getting together over Christmas." He hesitated before adding. "And I hate losing."

Logan was rendered speechless, the emotions washing through him all fighting for precedence: angry at Scott's gall, overjoyed at the implications of his words, overwhelmed by such sudden revelations -

"Ah, here's Marie now," Scott said loudly, as Marie entered the garage.

Logan quickly turned, meeting her puzzled gaze as she looked back and forth between him and Scott.

"Logan and I were just talking about you," Scott revealed with a smile. "Good luck with your cousin," he offered as he walked away.

"Thanks, Scott." She watched as he exited the garage before turning to meet Logan's stare with a frown. "You all right, sugar? You look kinda peaky." Sympathetic eyes searched his face. "Did you sleep OK?"

Logan managed a nod but her words suddenly reminded him of what his heightened senses had caught that morning. _It had nothing to do with the beer,_ she had whispered sadly beneath her breath.

The Wolverine howled within him. And everything to do with _them_ \- all what they were denying - their hearts, their bodies - a future together?

He nervously ran a hand through his unruly hair. "Marie - " he started, voice throaty.

She looked nervous as she took a step closer to him, yet as she met his gaze her face also held a confidence he had never noticed before. "Yeah?"

Devouring her face with insatiable eyes, he realised something for the first time as he took in the sculptured cheekbones, the complimenting make- up and full red lips.

He realised that she wasn't a kid anymore. His Marie had grown up. She was a woman.

_His_ woman.

He reached out a hand to gently caress her cheek, sensing her flinch slightly at his touch, obviously taken aback by the gesture. "Marie - " he repeated, firmer now, as everything was swept from his thinking save for them. No past, no future, no pain or torment. Just the present.

A moment suspended in time.

He took a deep breath.


	10. Unwelcome Interruptions

“Logan?” Marie whimpered, her heart thudding so violently she could hear it in her ears. Logan was going to kiss her? He was actually going to kiss her?

_Breathe, Marie! Breathe!_

The intense look on his face almost made her legs give way, his hazel eyes blazing so fiercely that he looked different somehow and she wondered, with a shiver of anticipation, whether it was still Logan or, in fact, the Wolverine surfacing. She almost felt that he was drinking her in, so devouring was his gaze. So – her throat went dry – so raw and sexual.

_Oh god!_

Her eyes fluttered closed in readiness.

“There you two are!”

Kitty’s unwelcome voice suddenly invaded the baited silence of the garage, instantly severing the moment and Marie actually heard a low growl resonate from deep within Logan’s broad chest. Under the circumstances she felt like growling herself. Her friend had the worst timing!

“Hey? I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

Marie met her friend’s inquiring stare, unable to disguise her anger. She wanted to scream her frustration!

“Oh god! I did!” Kitty realised, embarrassed, her eyes flitting from Marie to Logan and back to Marie again.

Marie looked back at Logan but his face had become a blank canvas. He ran a hand across the back of his neck in that uncomfortable manner of his and began to walk away.

“I’ll fill up the jeep,” was all he offered, his voice strained, an undercurrent of anger seeping from his words. Marie felt choked up as she watched him, wondering if fate was purposely trying to keep them apart.

When he was far enough away that Marie felt he wouldn’t overhear, she turned back to glare at her friend.

“Thanks a lot, Kitty! Perfect timing as usual!”

“Oh god, Marie! I’m so sorry! If I had known!” A hint of a smile touched Kitty’s lips, despite the tension in the air. “Well, the whole mansion _knows_ , we were all just wondering _when_.” She shook her head miserably. “And trust me to walk in on the _when._ ”

Marie frowned. “What do you mean? The whole mansion knows?”

“Oh Marie! Wake up and smell the cigar smoke! Logan has loved you since god-knows-when, and you, him. Scott and the oldies may have frowned upon it when you were still underage, but know that they have no hold over you now.”

“Do you think they still frown on it?” Marie asked unhappily. “Even though I _am_ older?”

“Well, to be honest, now that Logan is one of the family, and they’ve all gotten used to him, I think they’ve all come to accept the fact that you and he are meant to be a couple. Now, they just want you to get your act together.”

“You really think so?” Marie asked hopefully.

Kitty smiled warmly at her. “I know so, girlie!” She reached for Marie’s hands excitedly. “God! I am _so_ jealous! Logan is one hunk of a man, even if he is grouchy as hell!”

“Thanks, Kitty.” She glanced across to where Logan was fiddling beneath the jeep’s bonnet. “Although I don’t know whether you’ve scared him off for good now.”

Kitty shook her head adamantly. “He has made that first crucial move. You _know_ his intensions now.”

Marie shivered as she recalled that look in his eyes. She definitely did know his intensions now and, if it weren’t for the fact that they had planned to see Sarah, she would insist that he finish what he had just started. Logan making that move almost spoilt the excitement of seeing her cousin again, although she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“What did you want us for anyway?” Marie demanded gently. “It had better be worth it!”

Kitty smiled sheepishly as she reached into her cardigan pocket and brought out the Labyrinth book.

“I thought you might want to give this back to your cousin, since she isn’t – you know – dead after all.”

Marie accepted the book, peering down at it with a smile. “Yeah. I’m sure that she’ll be happy to see it again.” She met her friend’s eyes, realising that she could never be mad at her for long. “Thanks for the thought, Kitty.”

“So, I’m forgiven?”

“I guess so. Just don’t do it again. Just because you can phase through walls, doesn’t mean that you’re always welcome behind them.”

“I know. I know. I should’ve let the ground swallow me up as soon as I saw you two getting all cosy.”

“Literally,” Marie agreed teasingly. She looked back down at the Labyrinth book, suddenly experiencing a strange tingling sensation in the hand that clutched it. “I hope the institution helped Sarah. She was so convinced that this was all real.”

Kitty pondered. “Perhaps giving it back to her isn’t the wisest move then.”

Marie slipped the book in her jacket pocket when the tingling started to become disturbingly intense. As soon as it left contact with her skin, the strange irritation disappeared.

“No,” she insisted quietly. “I have this gut feeling that the book belongs with Sarah.”

“Sounds mysterious.”

Marie suddenly felt apprehensive although she didn’t know why. “Perhaps it is, Kitty.” That tingling sensation had frightened her. It felt somehow connected to the book.

Kitty watched her in bemusement. “Yeah, right.”

Logan cleared his voice to attract Marie’s attention. “Are you ready, Marie?”

Marie took a deep breath and met his stare, offering a fleeting smile that he surprised her by returning. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

*

*

Sarah woke groggily and disorientated, in an unfamiliar and puzzlingly short bed. Sitting up with a start she stared around her in a panic before the events of the previous day finally returned to her memory.

She sighed and let her head fall back down onto the pillow, remembering that this was Toby’s room, his child-sized bed. She had nowhere else to sleep, her old room in the process of being turned into a nursery. All the familiar, and strangely comforting, possessions that had once filled it, now gathering dust in the attic.

_Go back to your toys and your costumes_ she recalled Jareth saying; oh so long ago now, it seemed - almost another lifetime. So much had happened since then, both good and bad; very different chapters of her life, which she now looked back upon with mixed feelings. She guessed it was all a part of growing up.

She wondered, with a sense of trepidation, what this latest chapter would bring. Despite him trying desperately to conceal it, she hadn’t been blind to the fact that Jareth had seemed extremely troubled by this sudden threat to the Labyrinth. It was quite unlike him. She had never known The Goblin King to show fear before. Would he be in danger? He was powerful, yes, but during her time in the Underground she had come to learn that the Labyrinth was a mere drop in the ocean – there was a whole world out there, beyond those glittery outer walls. And not all of the inhabitants could possibly be Jareth’s allies.

The Labyrinth itself was an excellent defence, what with its towering walls, bewildering paths, dead ends and oubliettes (Jareth, himself, even admitted to still becoming lost on occasion, much to Sarah’s amusement) and needed only a small army that Kal kept in order - an army of men, not goblins - that guarded sections of the outer and inner walls.

Sarah had been surprised when she had first returned to the castle and met with only a handful of goblins, mostly female maids, expecting the place to be teeming with them. And it was only after Jareth had explained that the Labyrinth _she_ had experienced had been created purely for her benefit, that she had finally understood.

Goblins were less threatening than male soldiers to a young girl, and had been conjured only to fit the fantasy she would be expecting. As had the other creatures – Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus – all inspired by those _toys_ she had treasured.

Sarah had been upset to discover that Hoggle didn’t actually exist but had become good friends with the dwarf Jareth had based him on – the castle gardener, ironically called Heggle. Unfortunately, Ludo and Didymus had been entirely illusion, but Sarah had gotten used to it over time and now accepted the fact that she would never see them again.

Jareth’s final revelation was that there were, in fact, two Labyrinths separated by a mere veil of illusion: the Labyrinth where Jareth (reluctantly) became The Goblin King, bound to a centuries old tradition, and the Labyrinth where he remained Jareth and represented the Fey in matters of state.

She had found herself loving both, surprisingly different, personas over time.

At the thought of her husband, she reached up for the necklace that he had given her and gently squeezed the crystal for reassurance, telling herself that it would soon glow and she would be able to go home.

And tell him the good news?

She smiled as she reached down to cradle her still-flat stomach. She wasn’t one hundred percent certain, but the morning sickness, along with a second missed period, seemed to back up her conclusion.

Jareth was going to be a daddy.

*

*

*

Marie directed a sneaking glance at Logan, but besides a rather tightly set jaw, his face betrayed none of his feelings as he stared blankly out the window at the road ahead. She wished he would say something – anything – but he had remained frustratingly silent throughout the first ten minutes of their journey. Ever since Kitty had interrupted them in fact.

Interrupted their kiss.

Marie sighed beneath her breath - a kiss that had never even been consummated. Damn that girl’s god-awful timing!

She peered out of the window miserably. They’d be at Sarah’s in no time at all and nothing would have been resolved. Logan would stubbornly avoid the issue, as he did any issue that made him feel the slightest bit uncomfortable. It had nothing to do with him trying to retain some macho image and everything to do with a fear of revealing too much of the broken man inside. They might be close, might have built up a certain degree of trust after all these years together, but that didn’t mean to say that Logan was always willing to share his feelings. Sometimes he was still that distant stranger, still needed his darkened corner where he could observe the world through narrowed eyes as he chewed tensely down upon a cigar. Yet she realised now that she wouldn’t want it any other way. That to try to change Logan too much, might mean losing that part of him that had drawn her in the first place. Their differences were what worked so perfectly, what had driven them together: her light necessary to balance his darkness, his darkness adding a spark of excitement – that sense of being truly alive - to her light.

She turned back to him, realising that if his jaw set any tighter it would probably lock. Glancing at his hand that clutched the steering wheel she noticed that it, too, was so tense that his knuckles had turned white.

Nostalgia filled her as she recalled their very first journey together, along a similar snowy road, when she was little more than a child and he was a lost man filled with rage and bitterness.

_When they come out. Does it hurt?_

_Every time._

They had both come a long way. Changed together, grown together - unlikely friends that had found a sense of peace in one another.

Who needed each other?

Time was slipping by yet they still kept on denying their hearts.

She felt a surge of anger rush through her. Fuck it! She was sick of this bullshit!

“Stop the car!”

The words rushed out before she could stop them but her outburst at least got Logan’s attention. He turned to look at her with a puzzled frown. “What?”

“I said stop this car!”

Marie’s heart was racing, her palms clammy but she knew there could be no turning back now.

His puzzlement made way for concern. “You OK, Marie?”

“Please, Logan!” Marie gestured wildly out the window. “Look! There’s a rest stop!”

Logan instantly hit the breaks, the jeep skidding slightly on the slippery road, and swerved into the rest stop Marie had indicated.

“Christ! You cut that a bit fine, kid! Give me more warning next time!” After he quickly parked, he killed the engine and fixed her with an icy stare. “What’s this all about, Marie?”

Marie unbuckled her seat belt and turned in her seat to face him. Taking a deep breath, she whispered determinedly: “Finish what you started.”

It was obvious by the look on his face that Logan knew exactly what she was talking about but he remained buckled up in his seat, turning back to look through the window.

“We’re away from the mansion,” Marie insisted unwaveringly. “There are no Kitty’s to interrupt us. No Scotts or Jeans or Storms.” She hesitated before adding in little more than a whisper: “Just us. In the middle of nowhere.” She felt the tears prick at her eyes. “Please, Logan. Don’t close up on me now. I love you _so_ much.”

At those last words, Logan snapped his gaze back onto her and she realised that his own eyes were glassy with emotion. For a fleeting moment they simply stared at one another, the silence cutting like glass, almost painful. Then with one swift motion, he unbuckled his seat belt and reached across to her, claiming her mouth with an urgency that took her breath away.

She cried as he kissed her. Felt the tears run wet and hot down her face as his hands swept up her neck to cradle her face before diving into her silken hair. As their tongues duelled, she mirrored his actions, cupping his own face, relishing in the surprising softness of his beard and sideburns, before exploring higher, threading her fingers through his thick hair, making him groan beneath the weight of their kiss.

As he returned his hands to her face, he abruptly severed the kiss to stare at her intently, running his thumbs across her flushed cheeks to wipe away her tears. “Don’t cry, baby,” he soothed breathlessly. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry, Logan.” Marie’s own voice was ragged, and she watched him giddily, feeling as if she were drunk. “I’ve just,” she faltered. “Just waited so long for this.”

Logan’s eyes searched her face possessively. “So have I,” he insisted, a hint of anger laced through his words. “Too fucking long.”

He claimed her mouth again, his hand wrapping around her head, fingers clutching a handful of her hair to lock her even harder against him, his actions contradictions of rough and tender, love and lust. Logan _and_ the Wolverine? Marie wondered excitedly. One and the same?

And then she stopped thinking altogether and just concentrated on exploring every inch of his intoxicating mouth, the very taste of him acting like a drug that she was instantly becoming addicted to as it gave her an unfamiliar high that, together with the butterflies in her stomach, were enough to almost send her over the edge.

When they finally pulled apart, it was several minutes later and had begun to snow. Logan quickly moved back into his seat.

“Logan?” Marie was worried that she had done something wrong.

“We’ve got to stop there, Marie, or you’ll never get to see your cousin.” He watched her with fire in his eyes. “I can only restrain him for so long.”

Marie felt a shiver run down her spine. “Him?” she dared. “The Wolverine?”

He reached across to tenderly run the back of his hand down her cheek. “I hadn’t planned our first time to be so sudden like this.”

“You’ve actually planned us being together?” Marie asked gently, stunned by the very idea.

“Yeah,” he insisted with a hint of a smile. “I’m not all muscle and claws, you know. I can be romantic when I want to be. And I wanted it to be special.” His countenance became serious. “The Wolverine, on the other hand doesn’t care for romance and planning, or making things special, he just _wants_. You understand, right?”

Marie smiled, slipping her hand into his and clasping it gently. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.” Her smile widened as she began to come down from her Logan-high. “Besides, I don’t think these seats would be the most comfortable places to be ravished in.”

Logan laughed gently and his face lightened as the doubts and tension melted from his features.

“But Logan,” Marie couldn’t help but add, as her desire stirred within her once more. “I wouldn’t want you to keep the Wolverine reigned,” she hesitated as she claimed his eyes, knowing that hers now blazed with a fire to match his. “Indefinitely.”

Logan responded to this challenge by kissing her again.

“Don’t tempt me, Marie,” he warned when he finally pulled away. “A man can only take so much.”

Marie grinned as she re-buckled her seat belt, although her heart continued to race. As Logan started the engine again he met her gaze for one final time. “I love you, Marie. I’ve always loved you,” he turned away, his face darkening with what Marie recognised as shame. “Even when it was wrong to love you,” he revealed anxiously.

“And I love you even more for admitting it,” she reassured softly.

And those simple words were all it took to chase away the lingering shadows from Logan’s face once and for all, the smile he offered in return speaking volumes.

As they pulled out of the rest stop, the sun-kissed snowflakes swirled lazily before the windscreen, breathtakingly enchanting as they danced in the light wind, and for a split second Marie had never seen the world look more beautiful.


	11. King Raedin

"Raedin!" Jareth greeted in undisguised relief. "Thank you for coming at such short notice."

King Raedin strode confidently into the throne room, an impressive man in all his finery, yet no less imposing, the sheer power he radiated seeming to precede his every footstep.

He held himself steadfast: tall and lean, yet not devoid of muscle; deep set grey eyes, bright and alert and hinting of an intelligence most found intimidating. He was clean-shaven, face only slightly lined despite his years, his long sand-coloured hair pulled back into a single braid that fell down his back to brush his waist.

He was a handsome man, yet a hardness of character had been forged over his many years, lending a severity to his fine Fey features. His unrelenting desire for order and discipline combined with a contradicting need to rule over his kingdom as a fair and just king having taken its toll.

His thick navy cloak, fashioned from a material not unlike velvet, swept out behind him as he crossed the stone floor to greet his nephew and son. Two, equally distinguished advisors followed him.

"Jareth," he greeted with a strained smile. He glanced across at Kal. "Son."

"Father," Kal returned in polite acknowledgment.

Jareth immediately expressed his concerns. "What news? Has he changed position? Is he on the move again?"

Raedin shook his head. "No. It is most perplexing. He remains camped out upon the Fire Plains."

Jareth's eyes flared. "Then there is no other choice. I must ride out to meet him."

"You will do no such thing, Jareth. The risk to you is too great. We don't yet know how powerful he has become over these past ten years. Rumour has it that he took up with the Dark Sorcerer, Balak, who dwells in the Black Mountains.

Kal looked at his father in surprise. "I thought Balak was dead?"

His father shook his head gravely. "An evil such as that does not simply die. It just takes on a new guise."

Jareth worried at the prospect. "But Malakair does not remain under his influence, does he?"

"My Seers do not believe so, although I fear the knowledge he may have accumulated during their time together."

"I _must_ face him," Jareth insisted. "I am _no_ coward."

"No," Raedin agreed curtly. "But you are no fool either. Do you want to make Sarah a widow before your marriage has even properly begun? We might be Fey, but we can still be killed."

Jareth's countenance turned dark with anger. "So I am to cower in my castle, whilst you meet danger face-on? This is not even your battle."

Raedin frowned his discontent. "When one of the Fey is threatened, it _becomes_ my battle - the battle of all the brother-kings. As it has always been since the dawn of time." A hint of a teasing smile tugged at the king's lips to chase the shadows away. "Besides, you won't have to _cower_ alone. You'll have Kal here, to keep you company."

"I am not to ride out with you, father?" Kal questioned, not altogether surprised, although mildly disappointed.

"You are Jareth's second-in-command," Raedin reminded, a hint of regret sneaking into his tone. "Your loyalties lie with him now." He turned back to Jareth, face sympathetic. "Do not see it as cowardliness, Jareth. You will confront Malakair soon enough. But for now, my army and I shall ride out and demand to know his intensions. You still don't know that it is because of you he is here."

Jareth rolled his eyes in irritation. "What do you think?" he mocked shortly. "He has come for me, there can be no doubting that."

Kal watched his curiously. "I have been at your side a long time now, Jareth. Yet I still don't know the full story of what happened between you and Malakair all those years ago."

Raedin raised a finely arched brow but refrained from provoking the subject with his own views on the matter. "I shall take my leave and make haste for the Fire Plains. A ranger will bring back word of Malakair's intent once he has seen fit to divulge it." He took a step closer to his nephew to gently lay a gloved hand upon his arm. "Never fear, Jareth. This conflict will be extinguished before it even has the opportunity to flame."

Jareth's eyes were filled with doubt as they met the Kings. "I wish I could share your optimism."

"Trust me," Raedin demanded gently. It was not a request.

He turned, moving across to embrace his son lightly, before exiting the room with his advisors.

"He's probably right, you know," Kal reassured when the sound of their visitor's footsteps faded away. He offered a fleeting smile. "So what say you stop worrying and instead, fill me in on all those sketchy details."

Jareth did not appear overly keen on the idea but finally nodded his defeat. "Follow me to the consultation room and I will tell you the whole sad little story."

***

Logan parked the jeep outside the large white house Marie had indicated and turned off the engine, meeting her nervous gaze.

"Want me to wait here? I don't want to get in your way," he asked hopefully, craving a cigar and some downtime, especially after what had happened between them earlier. He felt as if a huge weight had lifted from his shoulders and just wanted a quiet moment alone to enjoy the feeling. It felt strange yet pleasantly invigorating. As if nothing really mattered anymore, except them. Except her.

Marie frowned at the very idea. "Of course not." She unbuckled her seat belt and reached across to kiss him softly, retreating before he could respond, much to his disappointment. "You're a part of me now, Logan. We do things together." She smirked playfully. "You can always linger in the background if you prefer, just the way you like to. Mr Grouchy!"

His Marie knew him so well, he realised, amused, yet touched at the same time. "Suits me fine," he growled, purposely playing up the persona that the mansion residents constantly teased him about. Inwardly, however, he sighed his reluctance to perform any form of social niceties - so much for some downtime. But he could sense that Marie needed him by her side on this occasion - she smelt and looked as nervous as hell.

He heard her take a deep breath as she turned to look back at the house. "God! I can't believe that I'm going to see Sarah in only a few moments. I'm scared, Logan. What if she hates me? What if she slams the door in my face?"

Logan was angry to think that Marie would even consider such a thing. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he lightly touched her hand to regain her attention, feeling a stirring of emotion as their eyes met again. "No one could ever hate you, Marie. And don't you ever think otherwise."

Marie lowered her gaze with a sigh and Logan could feel the sadness emit from her. It had a scent all it's own and he didn't like it one little bit, it made him want to claw everyone who had ever caused it. "You weren't there, Logan. Not in the beginning. My own parents were afraid of me."

He reached out to gently caress her face. "People always fear what they don't understand."

"They hated me. I could see it in their eyes."

"Fear and hate are two completely different things, Marie. They just have a tendency to become confused sometimes."

Marie offered him a hint of a smile and he was relieved to see her spirits restored slightly. "I don't know about combat training. I think the professor should have you teaching philosophy."

He grimaced at the thought. "I'll stick with some action, if you don't mind. I don't like stagnating in some stuffy classroom."

Marie laughed and he relished the sound - so sweet, like honey - and yet bordering on sexy now that she was more mature and less giggly and childlike. It wasn't that he disliked that childlike part of her nature, but of late he seemed to be becoming too preoccupied with the desirable woman that was surfacing more and more each day.

"I can just imagine it," she joked. "Me sitting at the front of the class and closing my eyes to reveal _I love you_ felt-tipped on my eye-lids, just like in that Indiana Jones movie."

A lock of shocking white fell in front of her eyes and Logan ran his fingers down it, suddenly anxious as he recalled the first time he had done so, on the top of the Statue of Liberty, when he thought he had lost her. His stomach lurched at the memory and desperate to divert his chain of thought he scolded: "Now, stop stalling and go knock on that damn door before I do it for you."

Marie nodded. "Ok! Ok! I'm going!" She was about to slide across the seat towards the car door when she hesitated and met his eyes again. "Thanks, Logan."

He frowned, puzzled. "For what?"

"Oh, lots of things. For being here. For being you."

She turned before he could respond and he watched her slip from the jeep out into the snow.

For a moment he remained rooted to his seat, staring dumbly through the jeep window at her, mesmerised by the vision of the snowflakes swirling around her beautiful face. The locks of white in her hair almost making her look like a Snow Queen from a fairy-tale.

A fairy-tale? A part of him - the Wolverine part of him - despaired at the wuss she had turned him into, yet he couldn't deny the sense of peace and contentment it also brought with it. He had been fighting his demons for long enough and Marie was the angel that would send them all packing.

She grinned through the window at him, amused by his gawping. "Are you coming, sugar?" she teased in that sexy drawl of hers, his heightened senses easily able to decipher her muffled words through the glass.

Snatching the keys from the ignition he followed her out into the snow.

***

Sarah poured her father a coffee. "Did you sleep OK?"

Robert offered her a tired smile, which literally answered the question for her. "Not too bad. Better for having my daughter home," he revealed warmly.

Sarah reached across the kitchen table to lovingly clasp his hand. "I've missed you."

He watched her apprehensively. "So? Are you going to tell me where you've been all this time?"

Sarah felt a spark of fear ignite within her. "Dad - " she warned, having already insisted that she wasn't ready to talk about it.

"Nothing bad happened, did it?" Fear swept across his face. "Because I couldn't live with myself if - "

But at that moment there was a sudden knock at the front door. Sarah sighed her relief, thankful for small mercies. Her father's persistence was beginning to wear her down and was spoiling their reunion. "I'll get it," she quickly blurted. "You drink your coffee." She had vacated the kitchen before he even had the opportunity to protest.

She made her way across the spacious hallway towards the front door, reaching hurriedly to turn the doorknob but stopping mid-action, her hand hovering over the polished brass in contemplation.

Should she be more guarded, she wondered cautiously. The Labyrinth was in danger after all, and she was its queen now. And if _she_ could pass from world to world, others might also be able to. She chewed down upon her lip warily before finally reassuring herself that Jareth wouldn't have sent her home if he didn't think she would be safe.

She stared hard at the white wood, almost as if she were trying to penetrate through it to see the caller, like she had some x-ray power or something. She rolled her eyes at the childish whim.

But then the strangest of sensations assailed her; an invasion of her senses that she immediately recognised, as her intuition began to overwhelm her. She gasped as realisation dawned.

Marie? she dared to hope, somehow able to _feel_ her cousin close to her, so achingly familiar and yet so distant in her memory now that it almost seemed like deciphering a stranger's presence.

A nervous knot tightened painfully in her stomach, yet at the same time, that hope - that desperate hope - instantly loosened its hold on her emotions.

Marie? Please let her intuition be right, she pleaded to the silence of her mind. Please! Her father had mentioned Marie's telephone call only yesterday, enquiring as to her whereabouts, although Sarah was puzzled as to why she should call when he had told her she was missing.

A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine. Had Marie experienced the same pull of intuition? Only sooner? They had shared such an intense connection as children, almost as if they were twins and it had made their friendship seem all the more special. Could it have still remained into adulthood?

Caution flying out the window, she grabbed the doorknob and wrenched the door open.

Her suspicion proved to be correct and she stared in stunned disbelief at her cousin - at Marie - whose gaze mirrored her own maelstrom of emotions. Only just able to catch her breath, she couldn't believe they were face to face, finally, after all these years. Sarah had so longed for this moment and she couldn't stop her mouth stretching into an elated smile.

"Marie!" she found herself practically squealing like a teenager again and she almost didn't recognise herself, feeling as if she had stepped back in time - a cherished time of precious friendships and endless giggling. "Oh my god! Is it really you?"

Despite the obvious joy in her own countenance, Marie remained a little more restrained, seeming nervous. "Sarah?"

Sarah took in Marie's strange hair colour - two locks of brilliant white either side of her head - she had never seen a style like it. Dropping her gaze lower, she became aware of an even more startling change. She gestured, dumbstruck, to her cousin's bare hands.

"You - you're not wearing gloves."

At the acknowledgment, it was now Marie's turn to smile, and when she did, all the doubts and nervousness Sarah had first detected upon her face, melted away.

"Surprise," Marie announced softly, her voice filled with pride.

Sarah looked up at her face once more, green eyes questioning urgently.

"I can control it now," Marie revealed excitedly. "Turn it off and on at will."

Sarah's smile widened. "Oh Marie! I'm so happy for you!" There was a moment's hesitation when they just stood grinning at one another, then Sarah reached out to her. "Give your cousin a hug!"

Sarah felt the tears prick at her eyes as they embraced. Tears of happiness - and moreover regret - for the wasted years they had lost. Marie seemed small and surprisingly delicate in her arms, not at all like the boisterous teenager she remembered, and Sarah suddenly felt fiercely protective of her.

"I've missed you so much, Marie," she sniffed. "And have never stopped thinking about you. Wondering about you. When your parents told me that you had run away I was so scared that something bad had happened."

"I've missed you too," Marie returned shakily and Sarah could sense that her cousin was also finding it difficult to hold back the tears.

And then her eyes met with another's - a man who accompanied Marie, who was standing a few steps behind. He watched her guardedly, appearing to size her up, making her feel decidedly uneasy.

"And who is your friend?" Sarah asked steadily, trying not to allow the man's penetrating stare intimidate her.

As they severed their embrace, Marie turned to smile back at the man. "Now where are my manners?" she joked, with a shake of her head. "Sarah - Logan; Logan - Sarah," she introduced.

Sarah and Logan watched each other tensely.


	12. A Shaky Start

Marie braced herself as Logan and Sarah watched each other guardedly. Logan looked uncomfortable despite his usual don’t-even- _attempt_ -to-mess- with-me façade and Sarah just appeared apprehensive. Under the circumstances, Marie couldn’t blame her cousin for feeling that way. Logan could seem pretty intimidating at first, although she had to admit that she hadn’t once felt afraid of him, not even when he had found her hiding out in his trailer, his face as dark as thunder. Only afraid that he might never return her feelings, which he had – eventually – but better late than never. Watching him, she felt her body tingle as she remembered that kiss in the jeep.

She forced herself back to the present where Logan and Sarah continued to regard each other warily. Only a few moments had passed but it seemed to stretch much longer. Concerned that they weren’t going to get along she was about to break the ice with anything to penetrate the awkward silence, when, to her delight, Logan suddenly offered his hand and a hint of a smile. “Hey there.”

Sarah hesitated at first but finally accepted the handshake with a returned smile and a touch of relief sneaking into her face. “Hi.”

Marie was all amazement. Of course Logan had shook hands before – he wasn’t completely devoid of social know-how - but to actually _initiate_ a handshake? She felt the love for him swell within her, the fact that he was making the effort touching her deeply, especially when she knew – just knew – that he’d rather be in the jeep smoking a cigar.

As their hands unlinked Sarah turned back to Marie, her smile widening. “Come in!” she gestured animatedly, her striking green eyes sparkling excitedly. “We’ll all freeze to death if we stand out here much longer.”

A wave of nostalgia flooded Marie as she walked into the house - it was like stepping back in time – the place hadn’t changed at all. All her childhood memories rose up from deep within her to whirl around like a confetti inside her head; happy, carefree times spent, not just with a cousin, but a best friend too. She wouldn’t change what she had for the world – Logan, the X-Men, a new found confidence in herself and her abilities – yet sometimes the yearning to return to more innocent times could be overwhelming. But, she doubted she wasn’t the only one to think that, guessing that most people – mutant _and_ non-mutant – toyed with such wistful thoughts.

She and Logan followed Sarah through into the spacious kitchen where her uncle gaped at her in astonishment, almost dropping his mug of coffee.

“Marie?” he gasped in surprise, quickly rising from his chair.

Marie smiled at him although she was secretly taken aback by his gaunt appearance. Robert had always been the heavier built of the two brothers, but not anymore by the looks of it. Not only did it concern her, but also caused a spark of pain to burn in her chest, reminding her even more of the father who wanted nothing to do with the mutant she had become.

“Hi, Uncle Robert.”

Robert frowned his puzzlement. “What are you doing here?”

“I had to see Sarah,” Marie revealed softly, glancing briefly at her cousin.

“But I told you on the telephone that she wasn’t here. I wasn’t lying – she only turned up last night.”

“I know,” Marie reassured, worried that she had offended him. “The Professor helped out a little.”

“But how - ”

“Dad – not now,” Sarah interrupted gently. “I think we should make some fresh coffee, don’t you?” She gestured to the table. “Please take a seat you two – unless you’d rather sit in the living room?”

“Here is fine,” Marie insisted with a warm smile as she slipped into the nearest chair. “We usually always hang around the kitchen at the Institute anyway.” She felt the urge to hug Sarah again – her cousin was making her feel so welcome, chasing all those niggling doubts away.

Sarah regarded Logan with an uneasy smile as he continued to linger uncomfortably by the door and Marie could tell that even though the pair had kind of accepted each other, her cousin was still not one hundred percent sure what to make of him. “Logan? How do you like your coffee?”

Marie tensed in her chair. Did Logan even drink coffee, she wondered, realising that she had never seen him drink anything but beer and bottled water at the mansion. Although she knew it sounded petty she couldn’t help but pray that he wouldn’t ask for a beer – not so early in the morning – she did so want him to make a good impression on Sarah.

He glanced across at her fleetingly and it was obvious to Marie that he had been placed on the spot, but he quickly turned back to Sarah. “Um, black, no sugar, thanks.”

“Black it is,” Sarah took note. She grinned at Marie. “And I know that Marie likes hers sweet and milky. At least I assume she still does?”

Marie nodded, the smiles coming thick and fast now; she was also highly amused by Logan’s _black, no sugar_.

Whilst Sarah and Robert concentrated on making the coffee, Logan finally took a seat beside her and Marie met his eyes mischievously. “I didn’t know you drank coffee?” she teased.

He reached across to squeeze her hand; a gesture that sent tiny shivers of pleasure through her. “First time for everything, darlin,” he whispered back humorously.

She returned his squeeze appreciatively. “I love you, Logan.” And at that moment she felt so deliriously happy she feared she might burst.

His eyes darkened with emotion but he didn’t reply and Marie guessed that he felt awkward expressing such sentiments that were hard enough for him to declare generally, without an audience to add to the pressure.

Sarah and Robert unwittingly came to his rescue just then, bringing their coffees, and sat down opposite them at the table.

Marie accepted hers gratefully and immediately started sipping at the hot liquid. Logan simply cradled his in his hands, eyeing the contents warily, and Marie noticed him discreetly sniff at the steam lifting up into his face. He struggled to restrain a grimace.

For a strained moment everyone seemed at a loss of what to say.

“It’s been so long,” Sarah finally said with a regretful smile. “Too long.”

Marie returned her mug to the table. “I know.” Her shoulders sagged. “I wanted to call you so many times. Things - things just kinda got in the way.”

Yeah, she thought dryly – just your everyday scenario of mutants and humans at one another’s throats.

“But if I had known about the Institution -” she continued, but stopped suddenly, annoyed by her own insensitivity, realising that this might be a taboo subject. Acknowledging the look on both Sarah and her uncle’s face, she guessed it very likely was.

“But yeah – it has been too long,” she promptly corrected her mistake.

The silence settled over them again and the doubts returned to gnaw away at Marie’s confidence. It dawned on her that she was going to find it hard to explain these last few years. As close as she and Sarah had been once, the experiences she had battled through – those awful months on the road, Magneto and the Statue of Liberty, coping with her mutation, and then Logan – a man who might be old enough to be her grandfather – were going to sound pretty bizarre to Sarah.

But then, she mused, Sarah herself had spent those six months in the mental institution – which must’ve been a terrible experience. And then she had just gone missing – no one knowing to where. Or how – she managed it. That all sounded pretty bizarre in itself.

She met Sarah’s gaze and was taken aback by the sudden understanding in her cousin’s face. That uncanny intuition they shared was literally crackling in the air between them and Marie realised that Sarah knew exactly what she was thinking and might actually be having the same concerns.

“Let’s leave the past for the moment,” Sarah suggested diplomatically. “We’ve got plenty of time to share our - ” She offered a strained smile. “Adventures.”

Marie felt relieved. “Sounds good to me.”

Sarah reached across her hand and placed it tenderly on top of Marie’s. “I’m so glad that you have the mutation under control now,” she announced happily.

This was obviously news to Robert. “You can control it?”

Marie nodded. “It won’t ever go away, but I can at least turn it off now.”

“Marie – that’s wonderful news,” her uncle congratulated, and a glimmer of life sparked back into his weary eyes.

Sarah nodded sombrely. “I know how hard it was for you in the beginning.”

Marie took a deep breath, remembering all too well. “Yeah. Without the Professor – and his assistant Dr Jean Grey – I don’t know where I’d be; pretty mixed up, I guess. I owe them a lot. They’ve been so patient with me. So kind. ” She quickly turned to Logan. “And Logan has always been there for me,” she added with a devoted smile. Although that wasn’t entirely true – Logan had, in fact, left the Institute several times to seek out clues to his mysterious past – he had never failed to keep in touch.

Peering down into his coffee Logan rubbed a hand across the back of his neck looking decidedly uncomfortable and Marie felt bad for making him feel awkward in front of strangers. But she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to shout to the world what an amazing guy he was. “Yeah, well, I said I’d take care of you, kid,” he stated firmly. “And I always keep my promises.”

“You said that the Professor helped you with Sarah?” Robert asked his niece, lowering his mug. “Can I ask in what way?”

Marie was aware that Charles Xavier was well known as a mutant but she wasn’t really sure how much she was publicly allowed to reveal about Cerebro, or indeed, any of the advanced technology that was hidden away beneath the mansion. She thought it would be wise to choose her words carefully. Not because she didn’t trust her uncle exactly but because her position as an X-Man required her to be vigilant at all times. “Well,” she started cautiously. “The Professor is telepathic and uses this machine to locate people sometimes, usually other mutants. But he made an exception in Sarah’s case.”

“A machine?”

Marie glanced at Logan for support, amused to catch him in the process of actually sipping his coffee. He caught her gaze and shrugged and she realised that she should have just stuck with the telepathic part and left it at that.

“It’s hard to describe,” she stalled.

Robert looked thoughtful a moment but then his face filled with sudden urgency. “Could he use it to locate Karen and Toby for me? Like he did Sarah?”

Marie hadn’t expected him to ask her that and didn’t know how to respond.

“Dad!” Sarah admonished, shocked.

Robert looked desperate. “I need to find my son, Marie. Karen had no right to take him like she did.” He was barely keeping it together now, trying desperately to keep the tears from surfacing. “Not at Christmas, god-damn-it.”

“Well, I – I don’t know – “ Marie stumbled, and she honestly didn’t. The Professor had helped her because she was part of his family of X-Men now, but to use Cerebro for an outsider, who wasn’t even a mutant -

“Please,” her uncle pleaded now. “I don’t know what else to do. She left me no clues as to where they were going. Nothing.” He quickly met Logan’s eyes. “Do you have children?”

Logan looked as if he wanted the ground to swallow him up at that moment. “Er – no.”

“But I’m sure that there are people you care about?”

Logan hesitated before glancing across at Marie. “Yeah.” Marie smiled gently back at him.

“And you know that your life would mean nothing without them. Well, that’s how you feel when you have children - how I feel about Toby – and Sarah. I feel incomplete when they’re not around.” He ran a hand frantically through his hair. “Surely you can understand that?”

“Yeah, I can,” Logan returned steadily, without hesitation, and Marie knew that he was thinking of her.

“But it’s Christmas, dad,” Sarah protested. “You can’t expect this Professor to suddenly take time out from his holiday for someone he doesn’t even know.”

Robert nodded apologetically. “I know. I know this is forward of me, but I’m desperate.” He looked from Logan back to Marie. “Could you at least give him a call? Just ask him?”

“Logan?” Marie quizzed desperately, and it was now her turn to be placed on the spot.

Logan shrugged again. “Can’t hurt to ask.” He hesitated. “Want me to do it?”

Marie felt completely out of her depth, hoping that the Professor wasn’t going to be angry. “Do you mind?”

“’Course not,” Logan stood up, his chair scraping the tiled floor noisily as he pushed it out behind him. “There’s a cell phone in the jeep.”

“Please – use our phone – in the hall,” Robert insisted, his mood much improved at the turn of events.

Logan shook his head, dismissively. “I need to return to the jeep anyway.”

Marie stared up at him curiously but then it suddenly became crystal clear. He wanted a smoke, no doubt to purge himself of the taste of coffee - if the way he was drinking it was anything to go by – she was sure he made a face after every swallow.

He was gone before she got the chance to rib him on it.

And then there were three, she thought idly, as she returned her attentions back to Sarah and her uncle.

“I really appreciate you doing this, Marie,” Robert thanked, the relief laced through his words. “I had been considering paying the Professor a visit anyway.”

Marie was puzzled. “Why would you want to see the Professor?”

Sarah and her father looked at one another knowingly before turning back to Marie. “Toby’s a mutant,” Robert revealed edgily.

Marie was shocked by his revelation but was suddenly more concerned by the strange look on Sarah’s face. “Sarah?” she asked warily. “Is anything wrong?”

Sarah frowned, chewing down upon her lip nervously. “I’m not so sure,” she announced cryptically.

“Sure of what?” Marie pressed.

“That he _is_ a mutant.”


	13. Learning to Trust Again

Sarah regretted the words the minute they slipped from her lips and her mind whirled for a way to cover up her mistake as she gave herself a mental chastising – she had vowed to keep her father in the dark for as long as possible where anything to do with the Labyrinth was concerned.

“What do you mean - he’s _not_ a mutant?” her father demanded gently, taken aback. “I don’t – don’t understand.” He regarded her strangely. “How would you know? You haven’t seen Toby in over three years.”

Marie also watched her curiously but remained silent.

“I – I -” Sarah stuttered. She felt a wash of fear sweep through her, as the terrible six months in the Mental Institution flashed to the front of her mind. The people there - convinced she was crazy. Forcing her to endure treatment after treatment. Trying to label her as schizophrenic. In hindsight, she knew that they had only been doing their job - of course they weren’t going to believe her stories of the Labyrinth. But it hadn’t stopped every day being a nightmare.

“Sarah?” Robert prompted and she snapped her gaze onto him unable to hide the terror in her eyes. Karen may have manipulated him to a certain degree – the woman was an expert at twisting him around her little finger - but he had still been the one who had signed her over to that place. Committed his own daughter. She could forgive him for what he had did, she even understood in a way, but she couldn’t trust him anymore. She just couldn’t.

He made her flinch when he reached across to clasp her hand, and hurt filled his face at her reaction. But she couldn’t help it. She was petrified of being returned to the Institution and even though she accepted that she was now an adult and her father no longer had any power over her, she couldn’t help but feel vulnerable and wary in his presence. Like she was seventeen all over again.

She forced a very unconvincing smile. “What I meant to say was – are you positive that he _is_ actually a mutant? Could you be mistaken?”

Robert frowned. “Sarah? What’s going on? That’s not what you said at all.”

When he squeezed her hand tighter, obviously trying to reassure her, she felt the tears prick at her eyes. “I can’t,” she whispered shakily. “I just can’t.” She was sure that so much as mentioning the Labyrinth to him again would start the alarm bells going off in his head.

Robert ran his eyes over her face. “Can’t what, Sarah? You’re not making any sense.” He reached across his hand to tenderly stroke the length of her long hair. “Why would you say that Toby is not a mutant?”

Sarah mirrored his exploration, taking in his gaunt features - his hollowed cheeks and dark rimmed eyes. He looked a shadow of the man she remembered and her heart ached for him. She had missed him so much. Loved him so much.

And then Jareth’s face slipped into her mind - so handsome, so powerful.

She took a deep breath, knowing that she couldn’t hide the truth any longer. That she shouldn’t have to. The Goblin King was her husband. She was safe. Protected. The Labyrinth was her home. It was all real. It was her life now. She would _never_ go back to the Institution. Never.

And watching her father, his face filled with concern and urgency, she didn’t think he would even want to put her through all that pain again, even if he could.

She glanced across at her cousin, shocked to see that Marie had tears of her own welling up behind her eyes, no doubt a reaction to the father- daughter angst playing out before her. “This Professor?” Sarah asked her softly. “What’s he like?”

Marie seemed surprised by the question but after a brief hesitation, smiled warmly, her eyes glistening. “A truly wonderful man. Caring. Accepting. Generous. All he wants is for mutants and humans to live together in peace.” She seemed overcome with emotion as she added: “He’s like a father to me. To all of us at the Institute.”

Sarah was relieved by Marie’s words, realising that she needed someone accepting right now. Someone hopefully open minded enough to hear her stories of the Labyrinth and, even if he didn’t necessarily believe them, to accept them.

She also realised that she needed his advice, just as much as her father did now it appeared – such an ironic turn of events. Needed him to determine whether Toby was indeed a mutant, as her father had concluded, or if what _she_ believed – that Toby’s newfound powers were somehow connected to the Labyrinth and to Jareth - was actually closer to the truth.

“Do you think he’ll see us at such short notice?” Sarah added, realising that she was suddenly as desperate as her father now. “In the middle of a holiday?”

Marie tried to look optimistic. “I’m sure he will,” she insisted and as they exchanged a hopeful smile Sarah found herself wondering what Marie would make of the Labyrinth and Jareth. Years ago she had mentioned her adventures to her cousin and Marie had indulged her, not rolled her eyes as others had, but Sarah still felt she hadn’t believed her. Under the circumstances, she could hardly blame her. The Labyrinth wasn’t the first _adventure_ she had shared with Marie, it was simply the first _real_ one – that had really happened - and that was the problem. She had cried _Wolf_ so many times that Marie would obviously take every story with a pinch of salt.

Heavy hearted, Sarah peered back at her father and placed her free hand on top of his, returning his squeeze. “Dad,” she offered warmly, trying to keep that lingering note of fear from her voice. “I have a lot to tell you. Stuff you’re going to find pretty hard to believe.”

Panic flared into his eyes and he was about to speak when she silenced him, placing a finger gently to his lips. “But, if you don’t mind, I’d rather do so in the Professor’s presence.” She didn’t know why but she felt that this Professor of Marie’s might just be the person to help her father understand the impossible. “Please.”

As she removed her finger Robert merely nodded.

***

Alone in the jeep at last, Logan yanked a cigar from his jacket pocket, his desperation to stick it in his mouth and light up, not unlike a drug addict craving their next hit. Quickly lighting the end with a novelty lighter he had swiped from St John, he sank slowly back into the driver’s seat, sucking on the cigar as if his life depended upon it.

Finally exhaling, he watched, with an emotion that bordered upon affection, as the grey smoke swirled and danced before him.

Ah! That felt _so_ good.

As the sweet poison swept through his senses acting like an instant relaxant, he sighed his relief and closed his eyes, relishing the silence and the solitude, taking a brief moment for himself before calling Charles. He was also eager to rid his mouth of the taste of coffee. Foul fucking stuff, he decided with a grimace. He had only drunk it for Marie’s benefit, who he knew would never have forgiven him if he asked for a beer.

The things he did for that woman, he thought, bemused. He had almost died for her twice and now she expected him to drink coffee. The fact that he would die for her again in a heartbeat, should the situation arise, was irrelevant. Having to endure another cup of coffee was a far worst prospect.

However, a few minutes later he realised that he could no longer delay the inevitable. Balancing his cigar on the dashboard he reached across to the glove compartment on the passenger’s side, wrenched it open, and retrieved a small cell phone that lay hidden beneath a newspaper. Luckily it still had some charge left.

Bringing up the menu he selected the connection to Charles’ own mobile, brought the phone to his ear, and waited.

[Hello, Logan]

[You _always_ one step ahead, Chuck?]

[I’m a telepath. What do you expect?] The Professor returned dryly.

[Yeah, right.] Smart-ass, Logan thought.

[I heard that.]

[You were supposed to.]

[So, Logan. What can I do for you? Is everything all right between Marie and her cousin?]

[You’re the telepath. You tell me.] Logan could visualise the Professor rolling his eyes and he smirked.

[Now who’s being the smart-ass?]

[I’m shocked, Chuck. You just said _ass_.]

There was a soft chuckle. [Jean shares your shock, if the look on her face is anything to go by. Perhaps I have over indulged a bit on the sherry.]

Logan grinned wider. It was good to see the Proff relax a bit. He and Scott could be too serious for their own good at times. Matching pokers, no doubt.

[OK, Charles] It was Logan’s turn to become serious. [This is how it is. Marie mentioned to her uncle how you managed to locate Sarah and now he’s literally begging for you to do the same for him, to locate his wife and kid.]

[She did not actually mention Cerebro, did she?]

[Nah, Marie has more brain than that. She did refer to it as a machine though, which got her uncle all excited.]

[Well, it must be quite distressing for him having his wife walk out on him at Christmas.]

[Yeah.] Logan agreed, acknowledging that the man had looked pretty messed up. [So, what shall I tell him?]

There was a moment’s hesitation and Logan used the opportunity to reach for his cigar again.

[I must admit that I am extremely interested in meeting with Marie’s cousin, especially after what happened when I tried to locate her with Cerebro. There is something not quite right about her sudden appearance.]

[So?] Logan pressed.

[I cannot, of course, allow them down into the lower levels of the mansion but I _can_ read Marie’s uncle’s mind for information and then use it in Cerebro, with perhaps Marie as an extra guide – since she will obviously know what her cousin’s stepmother looks like.]

[So? The answer is yes?]

[Yes.] The Professor confirmed. [Invite them to the mansion.]

[Will do, Chuck.]

[Oh, and Logan?]

[Yeah?]

[Please refrain from smoking that thing in the jeep.]

Logan growled light-heartedly. [Christ, nothing gets passed you, does it?] He didn’t give the Professor the opportunity to answer. [Yeah, right. I know. You’re a telepath.]

[No.] The Professor returned and Logan could sense his grin. [Just a guess this time.]

Logan switched off the phone, threw it lightly onto the dashboard, and took one final drag of the cigar. Looking around for somewhere to stub it out he peered down at his hand, raising an eyebrow. This was becoming a bit of a perverse habit, he realised with a grimace as the cigar end hissed against his skin.


	14. A Past that Governs a Present

The weather swiftly deteriorated during the last ten minutes of their journey, the snow falling heavily now, whipped about by the strengthening wind. Logan steered the jeep into the Institute grounds, the wrought iron gates opening as if by magic to accommodate them. He predicted that there was gonna be one hell of a storm before the day was out.

[Please bring them straight to my office, Logan] The professor suddenly cut into his mind and Logan jumped, almost dropping his cigar in the process.

[Christ, Chuck! Please give me more warning before you do that!] Logan growled back angrily, also via his mind.

There was a hesitation and then. [Knock, knock] Spoken with a giggle.

Logan rolled his eyes, unamused. [Was that Jean? You both at the sherry now?] He frowned, didn’t like so many people in his head, and suddenly felt a stab of sympathy for Marie, who had this problem 24/7.

[Just bring them, Logan. Thank you.]

Marie, who sat in the seat beside him, and his two new passengers behind, had been uncomfortably silent for most of the return journey, their combined apprehension stiflingly potent in the air. Logan couldn’t wait to deposit them with Charles so that he could escape to his room with a nice cold beer and some downtime. He would’ve liked to take Marie up there as well, to continue that kiss and a lot more besides, but guessed, somewhat grudgingly, that she’d probably want to stay with her cousin.

He sensed her gaze upon him and turned his head fleetingly, wondering if she had somehow read his mind, but she only offered him a loving smile, which he returned as he chewed down upon his cigar, before concentrating on parking the jeep back in the garage.

“Chuck says to bring them straight to his office,” Logan informed her as they all piled out of the jeep.

She looked at him in surprise. “You not coming?”

He tried not to frown but failed miserably. Moving closer to her, out of ear shot of their guests, he protested in a lowered voice: “Aw, I’m gagging for a nice cold beer, Marie.”

She grinned. “That’s OK. You go.” She reached across to squeeze his hand. “Thanks for doing this, Logan. Driving me, and all. You’re a sweetie.”

His frown deepened but more in jest now. “Hey, less of the sweet.” His hazel eyes roamed her face hopefully. “You gonna come keep me company later?”

She made a face that told him that she was divided between wanting to and wanting to spend time with her family. “I can’t really leave them. I’m sorry, Logan.”

He shrugged, feeling guilty at putting her on the spot, realising that there was no way he could compete with her cousin right now, neither should he want to, Marie hadn’t seen her in years, after all. “S’OK. I can always go irritate Summers for a while.”

Marie feigned annoyance. “Play nice. It _is_ Christmas.”

“And that should make a difference?” he teased. Planting a quick kiss on her forehead he turned and made to leave the garage.

“Goodbye, Logan,” he suddenly heard Sarah’s voice call, “Thanks for bringing Marie back to me.”

He turned with a hint of a smile. “Yeah, right,” he called back, a little taken off guard. “Er...see yer around,” he added, catching an appreciative nod from Robert, who now looked a lot happier. As he exited the garage though, he hoped it wouldn’t be _too_ soon – he had done enough socialising this Christmas to last a lifetime. He swallowed a grimace, still able to detect a trace of that foul tasting coffee in the back of his throat. He needed a beer big-time!

*

*

*

“So?” said Kal questioningly as he seated himself opposite Jareth at the lavishly carved round table, which took centre stage in the Counselling Room. “What’s the expression Sarah likes to use? Spill the beans?”

Jareth sharply met his gaze, wishing that Kal hadn’t mentioned Sarah. It only made him ache for her return, which wasn’t likely to be anytime soon. “Where do you want me to start?”

Kal raised an eyebrow. “At the beginning is usually helpful,” he offered with a smile and Jareth was suddenly glad that Raedin had not requested his son join him in this confrontation with Malakair. Kal was more than a cousin to him - literally a brother. He frowned. The brother he _should_ have had.

He heard Kal sigh. “Stop making faces and get on with it, Jareth. As you said earlier – time is short,” he teased.

Jareth sighed heavily. “As you may know, when my mother died my father disappeared briefly, needing to spend some time alone to cope with his grief. He realised that he couldn’t rule efficiently in the state he was in so your father stood in for him, as is common place with the brother- kings at testing times.”

“I remember, although I was actually surprised that _you_ didn’t stand in for your father.”

A sheepish smile played across Jareth’s lips. “He did ask – I _was_ of age – but I was _also_ grieving for my mother and didn’t want the added weight on my shoulders. I assisted your father but was happy to remain in the background.”

Kal grinned, shaking his head in feigned disbelief. “The mighty Jareth, remain in the background? My, how you’ve changed.”

Jareth shrugged. “I do not deny that I _was_ different back then. But youth is a whole different world to adulthood.”

“Lazy comes to mind when I remember _your_ youth,” Kal dared.

Jareth was not amused. “The responsibility of this place tends to change a man and his priorities. And if you recall, it was a responsibility I had no choice but to accept.”

Kal nodded sombrely. “Do you think you would be ruling your father’s kingdom if the curse had not surfaced?”

“There is no doubt in my mind.” Jareth shrugged again. “But your father seems to manage the ruling of both kingdoms extremely well. I attempted to rule both at first, as you will recall, but this place is not as straightforward as I would like and more taxing that I can tolerate at times.”

Kal looked worried. “Do you think that Malakair has his sights set on claiming your father’s throne? He is his son, after all? And my father is just a stand in until your first-born is old enough to inherit the title. Perhaps this is what his sudden appearance is all about.”

Jareth felt a shiver run down his spine at the thought. “I don’t know, Kal. I honestly don’t know.”

There was a moment of strained silence before Kal prompted the story again. “Anyway, you were telling me a story.”

Jareth seemed distant. “Where was I?” He pondered for a few seconds before adding, “Ah, yes.” His frown returned. “Whilst my father was away he was seduced by the beautiful mountain witch Mendrel, who dwelt in a small castle located in the Black Mountains. I believe she set out to purposely take advantage of his vulnerable state of mind but he returned to the castle soon afterwards and all was resumed as best it could be under the circumstances. Mendrel was seemingly forgotten.”

“But then, eight years later, Mendrel sent word to my father that she was dying and that he had two bastards to care for – twins – Miandria and Malakair – a girl and a boy who he had fathered during that infamous seduction.

“Well, my father was a fair and just man, and accepted that if the children were his, which in all honesty seemed most likely, he would welcome them into the kingdom and care for them. The fact that Mendrel had waited so long to make the children’s existence known, and probably wouldn’t have done had she not been dying, seemed out of character for the woman but my father did not suspect any heinous intensions.

“Mendrel died of a fever before he was reunited with her again and he discovered the children in the care of one of the witch’s consorts, a dark individual known as Balak. Balak handed over Miandria freely but refused to give up Malakair. My father was prepared to use force to make him hand over his son but it turned out that Malakair did not want to leave either and put up such resistance that my father finally left without him, with the promise of caring for him in whatever way he could from a distance.

“Over the ten years that followed Miandria soon become the apple of my father’s eye and quite spoilt in the process, whilst Malakair, on the occasions my father managed to see him, became more and more strange and withdrawn, eventually telling my father to stop visiting him, that he wanted nothing further to do with him. My father actually admitted to me once that he was almost relieved by this, saying that he feared Malakair was insane.

Jareth’s face saddened. “And then a few years later my father was killed in a freak riding accident -”

Kal nodded, deep into Jareth’s story by now. “Yes, I remember that day well. My father was distraught.”

“And suddenly, unannounced and most definitely unexpected, when the whole kingdom is in mourning, Malakair turns up to claim the throne, insisting that since I was under the obligation of the Labyrinth, he had every right to rule in place of my father. What he didn’t know was that the kingdom was destined for my first born, as it had been written in my father’s will, and that until that time, King Raedin was to govern both kingdoms.

“Of course, this didn’t bode well with my half-brother and one night he managed somehow to find his way through the Labyrinth and confront me, no doubt using the sorcery he had learnt from Balak to decipher the riddles and challenges along the way.

Jareth’s eyes flashed dangerously. “He tried to kill me and I had no choice but to defend myself, and although Malakair was powerful, he was still young and my magic far surpassed his. I could have killed him that night, ended it, and I almost did, but I came to my senses enough to acknowledge that he was still my blood, and so I banished him instead.” Jareth sighed wearily. “But that was my mistake. For in doing so I sent him straight back to Balak to strengthen his powers until they matched mine.”

“You think he will try to kill you again?”

“No. What would that gain him? The will has already been declared and Sarah is already with child.”

Kal frowned. “There isn’t a lot you do that displeases me, Jareth, but I really feel that you should have told her you knew she was with child. That the Fey are tuned to these things much earlier than humans.”

Jareth hadn’t entirely been happy with himself either but he felt his reasons were justified and only had Sarah’s best interests at heart. “I did not want to spoil her surprise at discovering it for herself, of telling me the news herself. I don’t think she even realised she was with child until very recently.”

Kal’s face filled with sudden urgency. “Do you think that Malakair is going to try to kill your unborn child?”

“That is the main reason why I sent Sarah away.”

Kal eyed Jareth in confusion, trying to gauge the shadows on his face. “Yet...I sense that is not the only reason.”

Jareth took a deep breath. “There is also another concern of mine, a persistent concern that has been vexing me for a long time” he met Kal’s stare, his face paling a degree. “That Malakair might be more interested in the past than the present.”

Kal frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“I think that he might desire to go back to the very source of his problems. My father’s will. I don’t know why I sense this, it is just a feeling that won’t seem to go away.”

“But how would he do this? There can be no denying that he is powerful but I doubt he has the skill to re-order time -” Kal stopped suddenly, and Jareth guessed that it had suddenly dawned on him.

Reading the look on his cousin’s face, Jareth nodded. “Yes, Kal. I think he wants to harness my ability to re-order time. One of the only plus points that came out of the Labyrinth’s curse.”

“But surely that is something he will never be able to do...” but he didn’t seem entirely convinced. “Is it?”

“That is my dilemma, cousin. When Sarah wished her brother Toby away, the Labyrinth suddenly saw fit to pass the ability from me to him. To this day, I still don’t know why.”

Kal ran a hand through his hair anxiously. “And does Malakair know this?”

“No. I believe – hope - that he still thinks that _I_ have the ability and will try to take it from _me_. If this confrontation has to take place in order to distract from and protect Sarah and my unborn child, I will accept the challenge willingly.” Jareth’s eyes turned dark. “And I will have no qualms about killing him this time.”

“But what if he does know? Or somehow finds out?”

Jareth’s face turned grave. “Then Toby is in grave danger and sending Sarah back to Earth might turn out to be the worst mistake I could possibly have made.”

*

*

*


	15. Coffee with the Professor

Marie was about to knock on the Professor’s door when it was opened by Storm. The woman greeted Marie and the new arrivals with her usual friendly smile. “Come in, Rogue,” she began, voice gentle and always soothing. “Charles is waiting.”

Marie was surprised when her uncle quickly passed her and immediately headed for the Professor’s desk, his demeanour somewhat uncomfortable. “You must think I have quite some nerve, coming here like this, especially at Christmas, but please understand that I’m not usually so forward. And would never have bothered you if -”

“No apologies necessary,” Charles interrupted, gesturing reassuringly with his hands. “Marie has explained your situation and under the circumstances I can hardly blame you. I will be happy to help.” He gestured to a chair, smiling kindly. “Please, take a seat. Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?”

Marie hesitated a moment in the doorway of the office, watching the Professor warmly. He was one in a million, she acknowledged affectionately. A hint of a smile tugged at her lips as she made her way across the room. The D’ali Lama in an Armani Suit.

Robert nodded gratefully as he sat down in one of three high backed chairs that were situated opposite the Professor’s fine mahogany desk. “Um, yes thank you. A coffee would be great. Black, no sugar.”

Charles turned his attention to Sarah as she and Marie also took their seats. “Sarah?”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Sarah insisted quietly.

“Me too, Professor,” Marie added.

Charles caught the eye of his colleague. “Storm, would you be so kind?”

Storm nodded, already in the process of leaving the room. “One coffee coming up.”

There was a long moment of silence after the weather-goddess left, where the Professor seemed to be weighting up his visitors, his soft blue eyes flicking back and forth between them, and Marie wondered if he was taking a discreet look into their minds. She didn’t exactly like the fact, but understood it, especially when there were shape shifters like Mystique around. Something that resembled surprise flashed into his face when he observed Sarah but it was gone before Marie could read it fully.

Charles finally focused on Robert once more. “I understand that you would like me to use my telepathy to try to locate your wife and son.”

Robert nodded sombrely, his face falling at the mention of his family. “If it wouldn’t take up too much of your time.”

“I will need to probe your mind first, just for general information - what they look like, what they were wearing when you last saw them, their mannerisms and such.”

Robert paled. “Um...I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but...is that safe?”

“Quite safe and quite painless, I assure you.”

Robert relaxed a degree. “Then by all means, probe away,” he insisted with a hopeful smile.

“And then I will leave you briefly, taking Marie with me as an extra guide, and see what I can find out.”

“Using that machine that Marie mentioned?”

Marie tensed at his words wishing that she had kept her big mouth shut about Cerebro.

The Professor also looked a little troubled but nodded anyway. “Yes.” He did not divulge anything else and Robert had enough common sense not to question the matter further.

“There’s something else that you should know,” Robert added. “About my son.”

Charles raised an enquiring eyebrow but Marie guessed he already knew what her uncle was about to tell him – he had that knowing look in his eyes – the look of an incredibly powerful telepath.

“I think Toby might be a mutant,” Robert finally declared.

The Professor looked from Robert across to Sarah and then back to Robert again. Marie frowned thoughtfully as she watched him, realising that he was already one step ahead. That he _knew_ of Sarah’s disagreement about the whole Toby being a mutant situation, but was just waiting for the subject to be brought up. For the moment, however, it seemed that Sarah was going to remain silent.

“What makes you believe this is so?” the Professor enquired.

Robert shrugged. “He seems to be able to manipulate time. Re-order it, so to speak. Only subtly but -”

“But you fear that his powers will manifest more intensely as he grows older?”

“Not fear exactly, I’m just concerned for my son. I know how people feel about mutants.”

“How does you wife feel about all of this?”

Robert seemed to physically grimace. “She’s one of those _people_ ,” he whispered hoarsely as if he hated admitting such a fact.

“Yet, she still has Toby in her custody?” the Professor toyed, puzzled.

Robert met his eyes anxiously. “That’s what I’m worried about. Karen is...” he sighed deeply. “Karen is deeply religious, but not exactly in a good way, and I’m worried about my son’s well-being. I’m not saying that all religious people are wrong in their beliefs but some look on mutants as a product of the devil.”

“And Karen is one of them?”

“Yes,” Robert returned gravely.

Charles pondered a moment, finally announcing: “I will be able to determine exactly whether Toby is a mutant or not when I search for him and your wife. If he is, I feel that it is in his best interests to have him brought here to the mansion where we can run a series of harmless tests on him to determine the exact orientation of his mutation. Your wife would be welcome also but in view of what you have told me I think it would be best to keep them separated, at least for the time being.”

“I just want to know that he is safe,” Robert said quietly. “And I have every faith in your establishment. Marie speaks highly of this place and I can see with my own eyes the good that has rubbed off on her, that she has matured into an intelligent and level headed woman during her time here.”

Marie felt her cheeks colour at her uncle’s words and she met his approving stare with a shy smile.

The Professor turned to Sarah. “If you don’t mind my saying, you have been very quiet all this time. How do you feel about your brother being a mutant?”

Sarah met his gaze sharply, taken aback by his question. “I...I love my brother, regardless of whether he is a mutant or not. I’m with dad on this one – I just want to see him safe.”

“Of course you do,” Charles agreed.

Marie frowned again. The Professor was fishing for something - shame on him. She glanced at Sarah, who suddenly seemed frightened again, like she had back in her kitchen earlier that day.

At that moment Storm returned with Robert’s coffee and Marie couldn’t help but notice the relief that washed across Sarah’s face.

“One coffee,” Storm breezed, moving with an effortless grace across the room, to place the cup and saucer on the desk in front of Robert. Robert looked up at her with a grateful smile, and something else Marie observed – her uncle seeming in awe of the beautiful softly spoken woman.

“Where are my manners,” the Professor suddenly put in. He gestured to Storm. “This is Ororo Munroe, one of the teachers here. She is also school counsellor who helps those children – and their parents on occasions – who might be finding it hard to accept their mutation.”

Storm grinned, flicking her gaze from Robert to Sarah, her vivid white hair skimming her slim shoulders like silk. “Hello. Nice to meet you both. Any family of Marie is most welcome here, she is a wonderful girl.”

Marie flushed again. “Storm!” she protested, feeling self-conscious.

Storm only laughed gently. “I’m afraid I will have to leave you again though,” she admitted apologetically. “I have a dozen rowdy children, still very much in the party spirit, to try to calm down.”

She left as graceful and as radiantly as she entered, like a ray of much needed summer sunshine in the middle of the bleak midwinter, that left the visitors gaping and Marie and the Professor smiling knowingly.

“You said that her name was Ororo, yet you both call her Storm? Is that some kind of nickname?” Robert asked, confused.

“Of sorts,” Charles revealed, slightly amused, and Marie wondered whether he’d elaborate and mention Storm’s ability to control the weather. But the Professor had more pressing things on his mind.

“Now,” he started seriously, swiftly changing the subject. “I only need a moment to read your mind, and then Marie and I shall see what we can do about locating your family.”

Robert nodded enthusiastically. “Do what you have to do.”

Marie glanced at Sarah and they exchanged a hopeful smile and Marie was overwhelmed by emotion when her cousin reached her hand across to squeeze hers tenderly.

“I’ve missed you so much, Marie,” Sarah mouthed silently.

Marie returned the squeeze. “I’ve missed you too.” As gentle brown eyes met striking green, Marie added encouragingly: “Don’t worry. You can trust the Professor.”

“I know,” Sarah whispered back. “I can sense it. I’ve got a lot to tell him,” she searched Marie’s face hopefully. “And you too.”

Marie thought of her time on the road, meeting Logan, the Statue of Liberty and a lot more besides. “I’ve heaps to tell you, as well.”

Sarah’s smile widened. “I can’t wait.”


	16. Subterfuge

Jareth left Kal and went in search of his half-sister, finally locating her in her bedchamber in the process of being fitted for yet another gown, half a dozen rather flustered goblin maids being kept busy by her constant demands.

The chamber door had been wedged open to make it easier for the maids to rush back and forth and Jareth leant a moment against the lavishly carved doorframe, arms folded, mouth severe, as he watched her in frustration.

He didn’t hate Miandria, but he wasn’t sure if he liked her. She had never been anything but courteous towards him and those of court, yet towards those she classed beneath her she could be cold, intolerant and even cruel. Jareth frowned thoughtfully. A lot like the Goblin King in a way.

He considered his alter ego, fashioned solely for the fantasies of those who wished their siblings away. Yes, he accepted. The Goblin King _was_ cold and cruel. But always for a purpose. To make those who attempted to conquer the Labyrinth see facets of themselves in their manipulative host and in turn, make them rise above it, the Labyrinth a metaphor for their own personalities, and the parts of it they needed to defeat in order to become a better person. When he had first explained this to Sarah she had been shocked by the simplicity of it in contrast to the frustrating complications of the Labyrinth but he had explained to her that sometimes the simplest things were only discovered through trial and error.

But watching as Miandria impatiently snatched a length of cloth from the hands of one of the maids he realised that her coldness served nothing but herself.

He had hoped that Sarah’s goodness of heart might have changed her to some degree, softened that malicious streak, but it only seemed to come into play when Miandria was actually in Sarah’s presence, for her benefit but no other. He appreciated this effort but felt that his half-sister was still severely lacking the inner beauty to match the much admired physical attributes.

He glanced down at the necklace he held in his gloved hand realising that what he was about to do was his last attempt to try to warm Miandria’s cold heart. If this failed he wanted her to stop visiting Sarah once and for all and remain in Raedin’s kingdom for good. He wanted no bad influences around his child as he or she grew up and of late his half-sister seemed to be spending more and more time in the Labyrinth.

“Miandria!” he called suddenly, and she turned in surprise, flashing him a beautiful but irritatingly feigned smile.

“Jareth!” she laughed huskily. “Do you always walk in on ladies when they are half dressed?”

“You look covered up enough to me,” he observed with a raised eyebrow.

Pulling rudely away from the maids who were in the middle of pinning decoration to her gown she swept gracefully across the room towards Jareth. “What do you want at this hour?” she asked mischievously. “I don’t usually see you until we dine.”

He handed her the necklace, which was identical to the one he had given to Sarah – a simple chain with a clear crystal at the end.

“You want me to have this ugly old thing?” she teased, running the chain through her long fingers.

“Dress into something sensible and put it on. I am sending you to join Sarah.”

Miandria’s face instantly filled with shock. “Sarah? To her Earth? Now?”

Jareth smirked at her obvious displeasure. “Sarah needs a friend right now and you would be safer away from the Labyrinth. Sending you to Earth will serve the two purposes.”

“But I can’t go to Earth. I can’t leave.”

“And why not?”

She quickly became flustered. “I...I just can’t.”

Jareth frowned. “Your gowns will still be here when you return.”

She swirled around sending pins flying in all directions. “I can’t leave! You don’t understand.”

Jareth’s frown deepened, something about her manner unsettling him. “What don’t I understand?”

She huffed and shook her head, her glossy black curls sweeping her flawless shoulders. “I...I didn’t mean it like that...I just...just don’t know Sarah’s Earth. I will be out of place.”

“You will adjust. It might only be for a few days.”

Miandria turned back to face him, holding the necklace up in the air. “So?” she spat shortly. “I just slip this on and then what?”

“Concentrate on Sarah and you will be sent to her location. When it glows you know it will be safe to return. Sarah will explain all this to you.”

“Do I have to leave right this moment?”

Jareth sighed his frustration. “No, but I insist you leave within the hour.”

This seemed to please Miandria and she nodded, her sudden change of disposition taking Jareth aback. “Within the hour,” she agreed, looking at the necklace thoughtfully. “As you wish.”

Jareth turned dismissively and made to leave the room but found himself hesitating, finally turning back to Miandria. “Tell...” he faltered, still unaccustomed to displaying his emotions so keenly. He took a deep breath. “Tell Sarah that I love her.”

Miandria grinned. “As you wish,” she repeated, rather vexingly this time, and Jareth found himself disturbed by what seemed to be a sly glint flashing into her dark eyes.

“Within the hour,” he insisted firmly, gesturing the importance with a raised finger, the glint in Miandria’s eyes gone before he could question her on it. As he exited the room, however, he felt her gaze boring into the back of his skull and for the first time ever it made him physically shiver.

*

*

*

Marie walked in silence alongside the Professor’s wheelchair as they followed the wood-panelled corridor towards the discreet lift that would take them down to the lower levels of the mansion, where Cerebro was located.

They had left Robert and Sarah with Jean, who had kindly offered to give them a guided tour of the school, ending with refreshments in the kitchen, which was where everyone had planned to reunite within the hour.

As the lift descended swiftly and silently into the bowels of the mansion, Marie looked at the Professor with a warm smile as she tucked a stray lock of platinum hair back behind her ear. “Thank you for helping them. It means a lot.”

Charles returned the smile. “Christmas is a time of charity – of giving – as well as receiving,” he offered gently. “I am happy to help.” He hesitated, suddenly looking thoughtful.

Marie regarded him curiously. “What is it, Professor?”

His smile turned sheepish. “Although, I must admit that my intentions were not entirely selfless.”

Marie had guessed as much. “There’s something about Sarah, isn’t there?” she pressed animatedly. “I saw the way you looked at her.” Marie felt her heart skip a beat. “Do you know where she’s been all this time?”

As the lift door opened smoothly, Charles manoeuvred himself out into the sterile looking monochrome corridor of the secret lower levels. “First things first,” he insisted knowingly. “We have your aunt and cousin to locate first.”

Hesitating in front of the lift, as the door closed behind her, Marie gaped at the back of the Professor’s smooth head, momentarily stunned.

He knew, she realised excitedly, he knew exactly where Sarah had been all these years. He must’ve looked into her mind and seen it.

As she hurried after him, however, she knew that she now had a dilemma on her hands. Should she wait for Sarah to tell her or give in to her impatience and find out from the professor?

*

*

*

King Raedin observed Malakair’s camp from a distance, a small legion of his army behind him, awaiting his orders.

He frowned irritably. Something didn’t seem right but he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“What now?” Orin, his second in command, asked quietly from his side. “Do we approach or let him make the first move?”

Raedin’s horse snorted uneasily and the king knew that the animal had already sensed the deception in the air. “Movement. That’s it. That’s what is wrong.”

Orin regarded him strangely. “I don’t understand.”

“Observe their movements. Doesn’t anything strike you as odd about them?”

Orin did as his king requested, his face finally paling. “By the god’s...”

Raedin nudged his horse’s side. “We ride!” he ordered his men, guessing that if his hunch was correct, it was already fruitless. But he had to be certain. They got within a hundred yards of the camp when his army were also confronted with the truth and Malakair’s illusion was exposed.

Raedin watched in despair as tents and soldiers dissolved away leaving only the empty Fire Plains, their vivid red grasses seeming mocking somehow in the aftermath of such trickery.

“Subterfuge!” Raedin cried out angrily, urging his horse around and retracing his steps, his army instantly parting to make way for him. “We ride like the wind to the Labyrinth!” he announced, voice weighted with concern. “For that is where Malakair will undoubtedly have headed!” He clenched his horses’ reign so tightly his knuckles turned white. “Malakair has made fools of us all! We have left the Labyrinth defenceless!”

Rage swept through him as he rode for all he was worth, oblivious to the wind that cut at his eyes and tore through his hair. How could they have been so blind! How could they have been fooled so easily! But fear travelled the same path as his ire. As he acknowledged just how powerful Malakair had become since his banishment.

He only prayed that illusion was the full extent of the man’s powers. For if it wasn’t, and Malakair had a whole bag of tricks up his sleeve, then the Labyrinth might not be the only place in danger - the whole of the Underground might eventually come under threat.


	17. Defeated and Defenceless

Sarah was impressed with the Xavier Institute, quickly made to feel welcome by both staff and students, and she didn’t think it was just down to the fact that everyone was very much in the Christmas spirit.

Dr Jean Grey was polite and friendly and although she didn’t exude that same air of exceptional warmth that Ororo – Storm - had, she had a unique tenderness of her own that made one feel instantly relaxed in her presence.

Sarah was curious to know what her mutation was but felt it would seem rude to ask, preferring instead to wait until she was told. Although she had spent several years in the Labyrinth now, with all manner of magical beings, mutants were still new to her and she was excited by the prospect of learning more about them. She was actually clinging on to the hope that Toby would turn out to be one as well now, and that his newfound abilities would not, in any way, be related to the Labyrinth after all. She didn’t know why, but she sensed he could be exposed to a lot more danger if it turned out to be the latter.

She sighed within, wishing that Jareth had been more honest with her. Why had he hidden something so important? As husband and wife they should not keep such secrets from one another...

She reached up to clutch at the necklace he had given her, the crystal still frustratingly dull. How long might she have to wait before it finally glowed? Days? Weeks? She had a terrible thought - what if it never glowed? What if something awful had happened and Jareth was hurt – or worse? Might the Professor be able to locate beings from _other_ worlds with that machine of his? She seriously doubted it...

“I would show you the grounds but it’s a little cold outside,” Jean apologised, gesturing through the nearest window to the snowstorm that continued to rage outside and at the same time jolting Sarah out of her reverie. “But there is always another time.” The redhead appeared to be contemplating the next course of action, before adding: “I think there is just the indoor sports facilities to show you and then we can end with some light refreshments in the kitchen.”

“That would be great,” Robert thanked. Sarah nodded absently, offering an appreciative smile as she followed them out of the classroom. As they stepped back into the corridor Jean caught her gaze, her eyes lowering to where Sarah was still unconsciously caressing the crystal of her necklace. Sarah was taken aback by the sympathetic look the woman gave her, almost as if she knew what she was thinking.

As Jean was explaining to a very interested Robert the varying number of sports his son would enjoy, should he become a student, Sarah found herself thinking about the man who had accompanied Marie – Logan – curious to know what mutant power he might have.

At least she assumed he was a mutant. He seemed such a startling contrast to Marie, really rough around the edges, and more than a little intimidating. And yet it was so very obvious in his gestures and attitude around Marie that he was practically smitten by the girl, protective of her in the very best sense, and that Marie in turn was very much in love with him. Sarah was intrigued to know just how the two of them could have possibly met in the first place and was keen to learn everything that had happened to Marie after she ran away from home.

She knew that in turn, Marie would expect the same of her, that she would eventually have to explain Jareth and her life in the Labyrinth, but surprisingly, she already felt comfortable enough to do that, surrounded by people who were clearly a little out of the ordinary themselves and who would, no doubt, be more open minded. There was something about the Professor especially, that touched her deeply and made her feel safe. It was a nice feeling.

*

When the tour finally ended and they followed Jean into the spacious kitchen, both Logan and Storm were in there.

Storm was busying herself preparing a selection of nibbles, no doubt for their arrival, whilst Logan sat at the kitchen table, seemingly agitated by the white-haired woman’s fussing, although Sarah had a hunch that his scowling was being feigned for the woman’s benefit.

Sarah didn’t know whether to be amused or disproving (especially since this man might be romantically connected to Marie) when she noted the beer bottle he held loosely in his hand and the cigar stub he had wedged between his lips. Smoke swirled and gyrated around him, never straying far from his leather-clad bulk, lingering like an old friend reluctant to leave. Sarah decided that he wouldn’t exactly look out of place in a seedy bar somewhere, alone and brooding in a darkened corner, as he observed the world through those narrowed but perpetually alert eyes...

“Please put that thing out, Logan,” Jean chastised, although not without a degree of jest in her tone. “We have guests.”

Robert shook his head. “Please don’t mind us. I...er...like the odd cigar myself.”

Sarah couldn’t deny that and she grinned. “It’s true.”

Logan raised an unruly eyebrow, something she noticed that he did an awful lot. Thinking about it, it was also something that Jareth often had a habit of doing. She chewed down upon her lip thoughtfully, wondering what it was with men and raising eyebrows.

Logan stubbed out the cigar in a nearby ashtray anyway. “Marie still with Charles?” he asked and Sarah could tell he was trying to sound more casual than he really was.

Missing Marie already, she thought, amused. He really was smitten. She had to hand it to her cousin. The girl had somehow managed to charm this big hulk of a man. But then, Marie had blossomed into one beautiful woman. Who could blame Logan? She suddenly found herself looking at him in a more positive light, deciding that anyone who cared for Marie to this extent couldn’t be such a bad individual, regardless of iffy outward appearances.

“They shouldn’t be long,” Jean informed him. She flashed a smile at Sarah and her father. “What would you like to drink?” Barely at the end of her sentence, however, she briefly looked distant and appeared to fleetingly nod for no reason, finally focusing once more on the guests. “Actually, they are on their way back now.”

Sarah looked across at the doorway as she took her seat but there was no one there. In fact Marie and the Professor didn’t return for several minutes. Sarah regarded Jean in amazement, wondering how the hell she had known. It could have been a guess of course, knowing that the Professor had said that they would reunite within the hour. Yet the way she said it was so...confident...so certain. And what was that nod all about?

And then it dawned on her - she was a telepath! Like the Professor! And that nod was probably in response to something they had communicated, via their minds. Sarah felt a shiver run down the length of her spine, but it was through excitement rather than fear. The professor must have picked up on her emotions as he wheeled into the kitchen with Marie because he smiled warmly.

“Yes, Sarah. We all have our secrets that we keep hidden from the outside world. But here, at the Institute, we need not live in fear. That applies to guests as well as residents. If there is anything you want to share with us -”

“There is,” she cut in firmly. She returned his smile, eyes teasing. “Although I’m guessing that a powerful telepath such as yourself would already know that.”

He nodded.

“But my son?” Robert interrupted desperately.

“You wife and son are located in a motel just outside of the city. I will give you the exact coordinates before you leave.”

Robert slumped forward in his seat, running his hands through his hair in relief. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Sarah looked at the Professor uneasily. “So?” she dared. “Is...is Toby a mutant?”

The Professor glanced from Robert back to Sarah, evidently perplexed. “No. No, he is not. Although-” He frowned, watching Sarah questioningly. “I do believe that _you_ can shed more light than I can, on this particular puzzle.”

Sarah found herself meeting the eyes of her cousin, Marie’s gaze hopeful, even encouraging. “Yes. I believe I can.”

*

*

*

Jareth peered restlessly out of the window, eyes narrowing as he scanned the panorama that was the Labyrinth. The stillness seemed deceptive somehow, almost a portend. “Something is wrong, Kal. I can feel it.”

Kal moved away from the map they had been consulting and joined his cousin, his face mirroring Jareth’s concern. “I feel it too.” He took a deep breath. “I wish we knew what was happening with my father.”

A hint of a smile tugged at Jareth’s lips. “Sometimes I do see the advantages of Sarah’s Earth,” he admitted grudgingly. He hesitated thoughtfully before adding: “All that technology.” His smile surrendered into a grin as he turned from the view to offer his cousin a wry look. “We could have had a satellite link by now. Seen exactly what Malakair was up to.”

Kal returned the grin. “I suppose that the magic of the Fey could be viewed as another form of technology.” He considered a moment. “In it’s natural form.”

“Organic, Sarah would say,” Jareth offered wistfully, heart heavy at just the mention of her name. His gaze returned once more to the Labyrinth. “I must admit, that if I was not bound to this place, to this curse, I could be quite happy to live with Sarah in her world.”

Kal looked bemused. “You? Give up your title? Your royal position? And become an ordinary...” he pondered...”what is it Sarah calls it...citizen?” He shook his head adamantly. “You are a good man, Jareth, but you still possess certain traits that would not work well amongst Sarah’s kind.”

Jareth regarded him with a half-hearted frown.

“Do not take my words the wrong way, cousin,” Kal continued defensively. “I just feel that power suits you. Ruling is in your blood. And I don’t think you could tolerate being _ordinary_ for long.”

“You might be surprised how much I would be happy to tolerate for love.” Jareth’s eyes glistened at the thought of his wife. “For Sarah...” He faltered, the silence strained, before adding: “And I could always use my powers in more _subtle_ ways.” He attempted one of his infamous cunning smirks in an effort to mask his emotions, but his heart couldn’t back up his stab at humour.

Kal laughed. “Sorry, Jareth. But you can’t convince me. This is your home and that is that. Besides, Sarah is happy here. Why change things?”

Jareth shrugged dismissively. “It was just a reflection, nothing more.”

“That is good then. Because in all honesty, I would miss you. I can’t be someone’s second if they are a world away.”

“Who says that I wouldn’t order you to come with me?”

Kal’s face filled with exaggerated interest. “If the women there are all as beautiful as Sarah, perhaps I might.”

A frantic knocking on the door suddenly put an end to their banter, however. Turning quickly, Jareth called out: “Enter!” as he crossed the room, leather boots pounding the stone floor viciously. Kal hastily followed him.

It was a lone soldier, one of a small troop who were positioned along the outer perimeters of the Labyrinth, under Kal’s command but who bore The Goblin King’s royal crest on their uniforms.

His face was flustered from running and his voice laboured as he tried to catch his breath. “Someone approaches the Labyrinth. I think it might be Malakair.”

Jareth was taken aback. This was quite unexpected. “Is he alone?”

The soldier nodded firmly. “Quite alone.”

Jareth glanced back at his cousin, eyes blazing with a conflicting combination of trepidation and excitement. “Well, Kal, it seems that I am to face him after all.” As he followed the soldier from the room his face was severe. “Good.”

But to their horror, as they descended the spiral staircase that were to take them to the lower levels, a low rumble began to permeate up through the castle foundations. As they hurried down the steps, the sound deepened, as the stone quivered beneath the invasive ministrations.

The three men raced across the throne room, through a large arched doorway out onto a spacious balcony area that preceded a stately flight of stone stairs that led down to the castle gardens.

Jareth stopped at the top of the stairs realising that the rumbling wasn’t just affecting the castle. The whole of the Labyrinth was trembling beneath the weight of the alien power.

Although he didn’t need to hazard a guess at who was behind it.

“Jareth! What’s happening?” Despite their predicament, Jareth rolled his eyes in irritation at his half-sister’s sudden shriek, as she fled out of the castle to join them.

Jareth glared back at her. “You should be with Sarah by now!” He observed Miandria’s dress and in her defence she was actually wearing a travelling cloak so he guessed that she might have been in the process of leaving. There also seemed to be the bulge of a bag beneath it, which she was holding and appeared to be fidgeting with.

“Use the necklace now and go!” he demanded brusquely, turning back to observe the horizon. Jareth looked about him wildly. The Labyrinth continued to shake and the power behind it was steadily becoming more intense.

“I will go when I choose to go,” Miandria protested in little more than a whisper from behind him and her sudden closeness made him flinch – he could literally feel her breath on the back of his neck.

“Malakair is upon us and you will be in danger if you stay!” Jareth hissed back, in no mood for her spoilt behaviour at such a time.

“Oh, I think not, _Jareth_!” When she spat his name, the venom on her tongue should’ve been warning enough, but Jareth was too preoccupied with what was happening to the Labyrinth to take heed. Within seconds he was sent crashing to his knees as, quick as lightning Miandria forced an iron collar around his neck and snapped it shut.

The iron immediately rendered him powerless, a known poison to all Fey, and he slumped forward in shock and pain, oblivious to the fact that Kal had already lost consciousness, a matching iron collar having been imposed upon him by the rogue-soldier whom Miandria had seduced long ago with promises of wealth, status and pleasures of the flesh.

Miandria laughed triumphantly as she stared down at him. “That’s right, Goblin King,” she sneered. “On your knees before my brother! It is about time he receives the respect he is long overdue!”

Fighting to muster his strength, despite it failing fast, Jareth forced his head up to return her cold glare. “Traitor,” he wheezed, face paling. “My father loved you...”

Miandria squatted before him; her beautiful face no compensation for the darkness that dwelt within her and even seeming tainted now that she wasn’t hiding her true nature. “That was his undoing,” she snarled, eyes glinting with hate. She smirked deviously. “Never trust a beautiful woman, especially one that you abandon at birth!”

“My father never -” But before Jareth could finish his sentence the Labyrinth abruptly stopped rumbling. He forced his head up to stare before him, his powers struggling desperately to hold back the unconsciousness that had already claimed his cousin.

There was a moment of unsettling calm before an almighty ear-splitting thundering vibrated throughout the whole of the Labyrinth. Jareth watched in despair, as walls began to slide effortlessly to one side, to contort and curve outward, parting submissively to make way for Malakair as he forged a single path straight through to the centre of the Labyrinth...

Straight to where Jareth now knelt...defeated and defenceless...


	18. A Proposal

Sarah gently sighed her relief. She felt as if a huge weight had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders. She had been talking for almost half an hour, and explaining Jareth and the Labyrinth to an audience of mostly strangers, had proved to be one of the hardest things she had ever had to do. And yet, now her story was told, in hindsight it had also seemed one of the easiest.

She regarded everyone shyly, more embarrassed than nervous now. They had been patient, had interrupted with the odd question rarely, and at times, had appeared quite riveted. “So,” she shrugged, matter-of-factly. “There you have it. I’m not mad. It is all true. And I could probably prove it, given time.”

Marie finally grinned at her, shaking her head in astonishment. “Wow. And I thought my life had kinda taken a turn toward the surreal.”

Sarah had expected nothing less than complete acceptance from her cousin. The girl had once been her best friend and it was already becoming clear that it wouldn’t be hard to pick up from where they left off, before their worlds had been turned upside-down. 

She turned to look at her father, the one whose opinion and understanding was the most important to her. “Dad?”

He sighed heavily and she was disappointed to see fear and doubt in his eyes. But she could also detect a need to accept her words, a need to believe in the impossible, and that was enough for now. 

“Just bare with me, Sarah,” he offered gently, shaking his head as if he were ashamed of his failing to trust in his daughter. “I’m not saying that I don’t believe you…although I won’t lie…it does sound pretty fantastical…but all of this talk brings back a whole host of bad memories for me.” Their gazes locked and Sarah saw much heartbreak in his face. “This Labyrinth you now call home lost me my daughter in more ways than one.”

Sarah reached across to clasp his hand tenderly. “I know. You don’t have to apologise. I lost a father too. We’ve both got a lot of lost time to make up for.” She smiled gently. “Just having listened without judging is a start.”

Robert squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I’d never send you back to that place, Sarah. Never. You could be as mad as the March Hare and I’d still rather not risk losing you again.”

Close to tears, father and daughter embraced, oblivious to their audience. Jean and Scott simply looked at each other, the latter having joined the gathering not long after the Professor. Storm had tears of her own welling up in her eyes, never one to deny her emotions, whilst Marie couldn’t help but squeeze Logan’s thigh beneath the table, offering him a loving smile when he sought out her gaze questioningly. 

Charles Xavier suddenly cleared his throat and all eyes turned to him. “Your story is indeed fantastical, Sarah. But, as a telepath, be assured that I know you are telling the truth.” He glanced across at Jean and she nodded, her face revealing her own amazement.

“Can’t hide anything from these two,” Logan put in grudgingly, having been silent throughout the whole of Sarah’s story. He lent back in his chair, folding his arms thoughtfully. “So?” he considered, hazel eyes narrowing in interest. “You’re a queen then? Do we have to bow or something? Call yer mam?” Up went that unruly and somewhat energetic eyebrow of his again as a hint of amusement sneaked into his face. 

Sarah could’ve leapt across the table and kissed him, his words not spoken patronisingly but rather, attempting to lighten the moment, his acceptance of her bizarre story as casual as his laid-back manner. Despite their initial shaky start, Sarah was finding Marie’s friend more endearing by the moment.

“’Course not,” she grinned. “The idea still hasn’t sunken in for me yet.”

“You say this world is called the Underground?” Scott suddenly put in, obviously intrigued, although she could sense a diluted version of her father’s doubt in his tone. Sarah caught his gaze, or at least tried to, guessing that those strange shades he wore were not simply to look cool, his mutation must having something to do with his eyes. “Does that mean it’s…below the earth?”

Sarah frowned. “I don’t think so. In fact, I’m sure it’s not.” She sighed, wishing that she possessed the knowledge to be more specific. “It’s really hard to explain and there’s still a lot that I honestly don’t know, although Jareth has tried to explain it all to me. It’s just…” she shrugged her defeat. “Just there. Sort of like another layer of space and time on top of this one.”

Charles brought his fingertips to his forehead in a contemplative manner. “Dr Hank McKoy, our resident scientist,” he began gently, “has always believed that there were other dimensions parallel to our own, but before Nightcrawler – a mutant with the ability to teleport – he had no way of investigating. Even using Nightcrawler has proven a frustrating challenge, monitoring his movements not without its complications…but now…” he looked at Sarah intensely. “I will be blunt with you, Sarah. I am very excited by this turn of events, and I am sure Hank will be even more so. I would very much like for you to stay at the Institute during your time…away from the Underground, so that we might discuss all of this further.” His gaze turned to Robert. “Of course, you are also welcome to stay, Mr Williams.”

“Please…call me Robert.”

“Robert,” Charles amended. “Although I’m sure that Scott and Storm will help assist you in locating your wife and son first.”

“Of course,” Storm agreed with a warm smile. Scott merely nodded.

Robert smiled appreciatively. “You are very kind, Dr Xavier -”

“Charles,” the Professor insisted humorously, mirroring Roberts last request, and a wave of amusement swept through the group. But his countenance quickly turned serious again. “Even though it appears that he is not a mutant, I still think it would be in your son’s best interests to stay temporarily at the Institute. This time-manipulating phenomenon of his will still be viewed as an anomaly to the outside world. Still be categorised as a mutation. It might not be safe for him to remain amongst humans until Hank and Jean have learnt more about his gifts.”

Robert nodded. “I would be happy to have him stay here for as long as is necessary. I am very impressed with your school.” 

The Professor nodded his thanks and regarded Sarah again. “I know nothing about this world you now call home, except what you have told me. But it is my conclusion that your brother obtained his unique powers during his short time in the Labyrinth, and that they have remained dormant until now. I am surprised that your husband hasn’t been more honest with you about this, and I understand your distress, but he must have his reasons.”

“I don’t even know why I was sent away in the first place. It all happened so quick,” Sarah revealed in frustration. “There might be a connection there. I’m longing to go back but I promised Jareth that I’d wait until the crystal glowed.”

Charles regarded Sarah thoughtfully. “I have a proposal that could suit both our needs – mine to learn more about the Underground and yours to be reassured that your husband is not in danger.”

Sarah leant forward in her chair. “I’m listening.”

“When you arrived here I entered your mind very briefly, as I do all guests to the mansion. It is a precautionary measure to guard against mutants who have the ability to shape shift or non-mutants who have bad intensions. But, I would very much like to examine your mind more comprehensively, as I did your fathers earlier, to gain a clearer picture of Jareth and the Labyrinth. The…machine…I used to locate Toby and your stepmother may be able to enter another dimension, given a few modifications.”

“Would that be possible, Professor?” Jean asked, with an uncertain frown, although her interest was obviously roused.

Charles shrugged. “It has never been tested because we have had no basis for comparison…until now.”

Sarah was forced to suppress a nostalgic smile, recalling a rather heated confrontation with Jareth in a dark forbidding tunnel, during her first infamous visit to the Labyrinth. 

_I wonder what your basis for comparison is!_ he had snarled, as she had insisted that his trickery was unfair. She had so hated him back then, or at least had kidded herself that she did. It was funny how things changed. _That_ Sarah and Jareth seemed a lifetime away now.

“Sarah?” the Professor prompted and she realised that she had been caught daydreaming.

She nodded once, face apologetic. “Yes. Do it,” she agreed firmly. “Do anything it takes to reassure me that Jareth is safe.”


	19. Faces from the Past

Pain overwhelmed Jareth as the collar around his neck began to press down harder into his collarbone, the poisonous iron permeating through his flesh, seeping torturously into his veins. The effect was making his head swim nauseously, his vision slowly blurring, the ability to even remain kneeling becoming something of a challenge. 

Two black boots suddenly stepped into his field of view, momentarily reviving him, and he could feel his half-brother's smug eyes burning holes into the top of his head. 

Jareth was determined to meet him in the eye, refusing to lose consciousness until he had displayed his defiance and shown Malakair that he would not be anyone's victim. With all the energy he could muster he lifted his head for one final time.

Malakair looked no different from their last encounter all those years ago. His dark hair was a little shorter perhaps, only brushing his shoulders now - more tamed than in his youth, but that crazed look still overwhelmed his countenance, betraying a man poised upon the edge of insanity. Whilst it was strikingly obvious that his Fey blood, however diluted, had inevitably delayed the aging process, his short pert beard and moustache unable to hide the fact that his face remained smooth save for a few lines around his eyes. 

"We meet again, Jareth," Malakair breathed, his voice low and dangerous. "But it seems that on this occasion I have the upper hand." There was a brief hesitation where Jareth could almost feel the triumph radiating off his half-brother in mocking waves, before Malakair added angrily: "I have waited a long time for this moment." 

"So have I," Jareth warned hoarsely, his steely gaze clinging desperately onto the last ebbs of his dwindling strength. "So have I."

With a cunning albeit painful smile, Jareth welcomed the blackness that engulfed him, satisfied to have had the last word. 

\--------

Toby watched his mother secretly from the corner of his eye. She assumed he was engrossed in his Game Boy but he had given up playing it several minutes ago, his character having been frustratingly killed for the tenth time as a result of his distraction. 

She was sitting at the table reading the Bible again, her finger manically following the words as she spoke them like some mantra in hush tones beneath her breath. He was used to it now, she encouraged him to do the same on occasions, usually when his father wasn't around, but over the past few days she had been reading more often, literally all the time. In fact, she was beginning to frighten him.

He was confused. She wouldn't tell him what was happening. Why they had fled the house for this motel. Why he couldn't see his father. Why Christmas had been so horribly disrupted. He frowned. He had been forced to leave most of his presents back home because she had been in such a hurry to leave. 

She thought he was just a kid but he was nine years old now and he wasn't stupid. He knew when something was wrong. He could even guess the reason this time…

He had been in the kitchen listening to his parents arguing just the other day, having returned early from a friend's house. He had been about to tell them that he was back when their fight had begun and he had hidden behind the kitchen door, unable to move, as their terrible words had carried through to him. 

How could his mother say such things? That she would rather him be dead than be a mutant?

A mutant?

He knew something unusual was happening to him and that his parents were worried about it. It had started a few weeks ago, a few days after his ninth birthday. Beginning with a weird tingling in his fingers.

Half of him had been terrified, the other excited, when it happened the first time. He had been watching a particularly funny episode of Wacky Races on Cartoon Network, which he wished he could have seen again. His fingers had tingled then and he had found himself pointing to the television set, just being silly and pretending that his hand was the remote control. There had been a strange smell in the air, like burning, and then to his astonishment the cartoon had suddenly started again.

The second time it had happened he had just enjoyed his favourite desert – chocolate pudding - and his mother wouldn't allow him to have a second helping. So, whilst she and his father were preoccupied with clearing the table, he had simply looked down into his empty bowl, the smell of burning had returned, and his chocolate pudding was back. 

That little stunt had not gone unnoticed, however. His parents had looked at his re-filled bowl in astonishment and demanded to know how he had managed to get another helping when their backs had been turned only fleetingly. He stated simply that he had made it come back.

He was aware that his cousin Marie was a mutant, although he had never met her. She had been good friends with Sarah apparently although his mother hated her, called her a freak of nature.

Sarah?

Toby had only been young when Sarah had gone away, but that didn't mean he didn't miss her. Missed having a sister. He realised now that she had been sent to a place for mad people because of her talk of goblins and fairies and magiking him away to The Goblin King.

The strange thing was, there was something familiar about her stories. When she had described them, young as he was, he could almost see them in his head, snatches of weird places and hideous faces, although they held a vague dreamlike quality…

At least most of them did…

There was one image that seemed so much more vivid than the rest - an image of a man. A strange man with wild blond hair and…different coloured eyes…

Toby frowned thoughtfully. Sometimes he wondered if she hadn't, in fact, been telling the truth.

\---------

"Jareth? Jareth, can you hear me?"

Kal's voice swam through Jareth's subconscious, his cousin's presence a reassuring light to the darkness that was overwhelming his senses. He tried desperately to respond to it but his head felt so heavy he couldn't even think straight let alone attempt to speak coherently.

"Jareth – please wake up. Before they come back."

Head still bowed, eyes remaining closed, Jareth attempted to move a little. He realised that he no longer felt the weight of the collar around his neck although the skin there seemed sore and tender and was throbbing painfully. For a fleeting moment relief washed through him before he suddenly became aware of the fact that his hands felt disturbingly numb. He tried to move them and when he met with resistance guessed that they were shackled to a wall. No doubt in his own dungeon. The thought provoked anger within him, which in turn sent some renewed strength coursing back through his veins. 

"Jareth!" Kal persisted, as urgently as he could possibly sound whilst trying to keep his voice lowered.

Jareth slowly blinked open his eyes, the effort making him moan beneath his breath as they smarted and burned in an attempt to focus once more.

"Kal?" he whispered groggily. 

His cousin let out a heavy sigh. "At last…" Jareth heard a chinking of chains and guessed that Kal was leaning closer. "They've taken the collars off but have replaced them with iron shackles. They won't kill us – not like the collars eventually would have - but will keep us weak."

Jareth finally glanced across at his cousin who was, indeed, chained up to the opposite wall. Rage overwhelmed him when he observed Kal's face in the flickering torchlight. "What did he do to you?" he demanded, not caring about keeping his voice down.

The angry bruise marred the top of Kal's left cheek, it's severity causing the man's eye to swell slightly. "He didn't do anything," Kal revealed through clenched teeth. "It was her."

Jareth couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Miandria?"

"She said it was pay back for the fact that I have never liked her." He shook his head, indicating his own disbelief, although he grimaced beneath the movement. "When I told her that her actions only added weight to that fact she hit me again. She packs one mean punch, that's all I can say."

Jareth clenched his fists, furious with himself for not having realised Miandria's true nature before now and he found himself wondering whether that vain spoilt persona of hers was real or had actually just been an act all along. If it had been an act she was one cunningly devious woman and might prove to be just as dangerous as her brother. He felt his heart tighten as he thought of the way she had manipulated their father all those years, who had never shown her anything but unwavering love and affection. "Kal, I'm sorry that you are caught up in all of this. You should have gone with Raedin."

"I am your second." He offered a strained smile. "I remain by your side through thick and thin." 

"They will pay for this!" Jareth insisted angrily. "Both of them. I swear it."

"Easy to declare, cousin, a little harder to actually carry out at the moment," Kal attempted to joke. "I think escape is our main priority right now."

Jareth dropped his head back against the wall, admitting defeat. "If these shackles were made of ordinary metal and not iron, I could free us, but the poison is hindering my powers."

"Which was obviously Malakair's intension," Kal declared. "Although I'm surprised that he wasn't affected by the iron – he is still half-Fey, after all." 

Jareth shook his head dismissively. "You'll be surprised how much the half-Fey can tolerate. They can withstand iron for a lot longer than the Fey and wearing gloves would be enough to protect him and Miandria completely. In a way, I think they have it better than us. They may not possess immortality but they do live a long time, and retain their youth for the best part of it. And although they are not born with as intense powers as us, with practice and dedication they can rapidly catch up."

"So, you're saying that we're stuck here?" Kal teased, always one to try to make light of a dark moment. "That the great Goblin King is going to let me down?"

Jareth turned to grin at him through the half-light. "It looks like it." He pondered a moment before adding: "I'm just relieved that Sarah is far away from here. That she is safe." He shrugged, which proved a challenge whilst shackled to a wall. "She might have to wait slightly longer than I first anticipated before she can return home, but she has a lot more patience than when I first met her." 

Jareth didn't like the sudden look that flashed across Kal's face and he felt a stirring of unease. "What is it?"

"What…what if she cannot wait? What if she returns without your consent?" 

Jareth secretly feared as much himself. "She promised," he insisted adamantly. "She promised that she would wait until the crystal glowed."

"Did she? Did she actually say she would do that?"

Jareth's mind swam again as he tried to think back to that heated exchange with Sarah in the rose garden. "I…I cannot remember. It all happened so quickly. But even if she didn't actually promise, I assumed she understood the seriousness of my wish."

"Maybe. But she also loves you, Jareth, and will no doubt be worrying that little bit more every day she has to wait. She-"

Kal's words were cut short when the sound of footsteps suddenly sounded in the corridor outside the dungeon and their gazes were suddenly wrenched to the barred door.

"She will not defy me," Jareth declared firmly, although his voice was little more than a gravely whisper. Inwardly, however, he had a terrible feeling that she was going to do just that. Not to purposely go against his wishes, but through concern. Through love. The reflection proved to be bittersweet.

As the footsteps halted outside the door and a key was slowly turned in the lock he fleetingly closed his eyes and concentrated on sending his wife a silent message, even though he knew it would never reach her. 

Please do not defy me, Sarah. I beg of you. 

\------------ 

AUTHOR NOTE – When the story was in Toby's viewpoint I tried to write it as simply as possible, just like how a child might think. But I also didn't want to make it too childish because I remember being nine and you really aren't as ignorant as adults assume you are. I hope I got the balance OK.

As always, Karen's obsessiveness with God and religion isn't meant to be offensive to anyone who is religious. As with anything - religion, love, Hugh Jackman (wink wink) - some people can take things too far and become obsessive.


	20. An Unexpected Announcement

I don't know if I've mentioned this before – probably not. But in this X-Men world, Jean obviously didn't die at Alkali Lake, although all the events at Alkali Lake did still happen. Let's just say that they were able to get the X-jet started again before the valley was flooded. Oh, and let's also say that Logan got over his crush on Jean quickly pronto when he realised that Marie had grown up into a beautiful woman!

\---------------

After Sarah had told the X-Men about her life with Jareth in the Underground, the kitchen slowly emptied. Professor Xavier wheeled off to seek out Dr Hank Mckoy to discuss Sarah's situation, with the intension of introducing the two a little later in the day. Jean returned to the hyper bunch of festive X-kids in the lounge after a flustered Bobby alerted her to the fact that one of the younger children had swallowed a marble that had come inside a cracker. Storm, Scott and Robert, followed her a short while later, the latter of whom had been offered a glass of sherry in front of the fire, just until the snowstorm passed and they could drive him to the motel where Karen and Toby were temporarily residing.

Eventually just Marie, Logan and Sarah remained.

"Uncle Robert seems in much better spirits," Marie started with a smile. "I must admit, I was a little shocked by his appearance when I first saw him."

Sarah's face darkened. "You weren't the only one. I don't know what's been happening between him and Karen during the time I've been away but it seems like the marriage is well and truly over."

"Good!" Marie cheered, having never liked her aunt. The woman had always made it clear that she thought mutants were freaks of nature. "She was such a bitch to me when the mutation took effect. Wouldn't even speak to me."

"I know," Sarah recalled bitterly. "I always felt bad about that. If it's any consolation, I've never liked her either."

Marie giggled. "So, we're both in agreement that she's a bitch?"

"You bet!"

They suddenly heard a surly grunt slip from Logan's lips and he rose from his chair, gently touching Marie on the shoulder as he did so. "Um…I'm gonna leave you two ladies to discuss the Wicked Witch of the West and go do a session in The Danger Room. Work off some of that buffet food."

Marie grinned up at him. "Well, you did kinda pig out a bit, sugar." She backed up her statement by playfully slapping him in the stomach.

"Abs of steel, darlin'" he countered, grabbing for her hand and pressing it against his t-shirt to prove the point. "Abs of steel."

Relishing the touch of him, Marie's grin widened and they exchanged a knowing look. She knew that if Sarah wasn't around he would've said adamantium, but everyone still seemed a little uncertain about what to reveal around their guests. Marie thought that after Sarah had lain everything on the line where the Labyrinth was concerned, that it might be only fair to be a bit more open with her in future but she thought it best to get the Professor's approval first.

"Can I have my hand back?" she teased and Logan gave it a squeeze before promptly releasing it.

She watched him leave the room, at the same time admiring the way his tight jeans flattered his perfect behind, and she shivered at the realisation that they were now more than just friends. She offered Sarah a fleeting apologetic smile and an "I'll be back in a tick," unable to resist following Logan out into the corridor.

"Logan, wait," she called after him and he turned in surprise.

"What's up, Marie?" He looked concerned until she slipped her arms around his waist and pulled herself into his chest. He grinned as he peered down at her. "What's all this about, kid?"

She shrugged ruefully. "I'm sorry about all this. I'm dying to spend some quality time with you but Sarah is really important to me."

He reached down to sweep a stray lock of hair from her face. "Take all the time you need, baby. I'll be waitin'"

"I love you so much, y'know that don't ya?"

A spark seemed to light behind his eyes as he leaned in closer to her. "Right back at yer, darlin'"

Slipping a hand gently around her neck he encouraged her closer, his sudden kiss very un-Logan like: soft, tentative, but speaking volumes. When he finally pulled away Marie had gone so lightheaded that she had to lean against him for support.

"Wow!" she smiled into his broad chest. "I don't know which I like best…your passionate kisses or your tender ones."

He reached his hand around to her chin, easing her face up to meet him in the eye. "You aint seen nothin' yet."

Marie's heart performed a somersault. "Promises, promises."

For a few seconds they just stood in one another's arms staring into one another's eyes, cherishing the moment. Eventually Logan gestured to the kitchen door with a nod of his head. "You better get back to your cousin."

"Yeah."

"We can catch up later."

Marie smiled wistfully, still overwhelmed. "Yeah."

As he pulled away from her, her face turned mischievous. "Don't you pull anything in that Danger Room, d'ya hear? I want you to stay in one piece."

"Healing factor, remember? Christ, Marie," he teased. "You should remember by now."

"I know," she giggled. "Yay for mutant genes!"

He shook his head in amusement as he walked away but Marie continued to watch him until he turned the corner and disappeared. She sighed, missing him already, staring into space dreamily and sniffing fancifully at the air for any last hints of him. When she caught a whiff of cigar she inhaled deeply wanting to devour every last trace of it, not caring whether it was genuine or simply a manifestation of her own mind.

"So," Sarah began gently, when Marie returned to the kitchen and sat back down at the table. "How long have you two been…you know…together?"

Marie felt herself blush. "Well," she started. "We've known each other for several years but we sort of finally got it together…er…today."

"Oh," Sarah returned, surprised, and then it was her turn to colour. "Sorry about my awful timing."

Marie wanted to set her straight immediately. "Don't be! Me and Logan took this long to get it together, I'm sure a few more days won't matter. I wouldn't change now for anything. Being here with you."

"I admit, I miss Jareth more than anything, but I can't help but agree."

Marie laughed. "Aren't we the mushy ones!"

"We always were though," Sarah reminded. "Can you remember that blood pact we made all those years ago?"

The memory instantly warmed Marie and she accepted that Sarah had been her only true friend, even before the mutation had kicked in. "Oh, god yes! It made us both feel a bit queasy afterwards though, didn't it, even though we only used tiny needles!"

They smiled at each other and there was a moment of pleasant silence. Then Sarah leaned forward slightly. "I'm intrigued," she began cryptically. "Danger Room?"

Marie sighed deeply, as if gearing herself up for what she was about to say. "I suppose it's my turn now. You've told us your incredible adventures and now I've got to tell you mine." Marie shook her head in disbelief. "Although I still can't believe that you're a queen!"

Sarah hid her face in her hands. "Oh don't!" she despaired. "I feel embarrassed enough about that as it is!"

Marie was amused by her cousin's gesture, it reminded her of a much younger Sarah. "But this Jareth," she mused. "He sounds amazing. Rescuing you from that mental institution, the way he did."

"I know," Sarah agreed longingly. "I was high on some medication at the time but I do remember him leaning over me, looking a bit hazy but as handsome as ever, and declaring: 'This ends now. I won't let them hurt you ever again.'"

"So romantic," Marie gushed.

"Yeah. I get goose pimples just thinking about it." Sarah cocked her head to one side, slipping a lock of her hair behind her ear. "But enough about me – come on – let's hear your story."

Marie nodded and animatedly told Sarah about running away, meeting Logan in the bar at Laughlin City, encountering the X-Men and then the event with Magneto at the Statue of Liberty…how Logan saved her life…There was more to tell, of course – the drama at Alkali Lake for one – but she felt that she had covered those things that were most parallel to Sarah's own story.

Sarah gestured to the white streaks in Marie's hair. "I did wonder about these, but didn't like to say anything. I didn't know whether it was a fashion thing." She hesitated. "But it suits you. Makes you look mysterious."

"I was tempted to dye them back to my own hair-colour but in the end I decided against it. They remind me of what happened, what Logan did for me, and make me feel appreciative of being alive…and of having him in my life."

Marie made Sarah and herself a glass of orange juice after she had finished, long speeches always leaving her throat dry. Sarah smiled excitedly as she brought them back over to the table.

"It's uncanny really, how similar our lives have become," Sarah began. "We've both been catapulted into other worlds, so to speak, and encountered extraordinary people." Her smile widened. "And then, to top it off, we both get rescued by charismatic older men who both happen to be immortal."

"Hmm…I wouldn't call Logan charismatic, more the hard-ass with the secret soft centre." Marie shrugged. "And I dunno about the immortal thing – he'll probably live a long time but I doubt it will be forever."

Sarah suddenly looked thoughtful. "This might sound silly but…" she faltered.

Marie looked at her intently, her glass of juice poised half way between the table and her lips. She lowered it back to the coaster. "What?" she encouraged. "Tell me."

"Well, I feel like our adventures, the men in our lives, have somehow bonded us even more. That the years we lost don't really seem important because they were gearing us up for this reunion." She looked a little uncomfortable but carried on regardless. "I'll be honest, I didn't know what to make of Logan at first. He…frightened me a little."

Marie rolled her eyes. "That's bad-ass Logan for you but don't let it intimidate you – it's all a front."

"Actually, now that I've got to know him a little better I've really warmed to him. I know that he'll take care of you."

"Just like Jareth will you."

Sarah frowned. "I'm so worried about him, Marie. What if something awful has happened to him?" She peered down at the necklace as she lifted it up from her chest. "I had hoped this would've glowed by now."

Marie's heart went out to her. "Trust in the Professor. I'm sure that he'll be able to use Cerebro to track him down."

"Cerebro?"

Marie realised her mistake and she hoped that the Professor wouldn't be too angry with her. She already felt unprofessional, at least in her role as a vigilant X-Man, about mentioning Cerebro in the first place, even if she had referred to it as simply a machine. "Damn. I meant the Professor's machine."

Sarah had already put two and two together. "Don't worry. I've already guessed that there are a few secrets tucked away in this place. You can trust me."

"Yeah, I know. It's just that the Professor doesn't like too many outsiders knowing the ins and outs of this place."

"That's understandable."

"Not that you'll ever be an outsider to me, but- "

"You don't have to explain. Besides, I doubt they'd be anyone from the Underground who would be interested in mutants anyway."

"No," Marie agreed. "You're probably right."

\----------

Malakair strode into the dungeon, heavy boots echoing around the large dank room, black cloak sweeping out dramatically behind him. Miandria swiftly followed with a flick of her long raven hair, just as intent on making a melodramatic entrance, her whole persona strikingly transformed: feminine gown replaced by black riding britches and tight black corset, fitted over the top of a blood-red silken poet's shirt; whilst her make-up was much more pronounced than usual – her eyes dark and smouldering and her lips crimson and suggestive.

Jareth narrowed his eyes as he regarded them both with contempt. They looked more alike than he would've ever believed possible now that Miandria wasn't hiding behind a seemingly innocent facade. But then, they were twins; it was inevitable that they would share certain traits. His eyes narrowed further. Even malicious ones.

"Ah, he wakes at last," Malakair announced briskly, wrapping his cloak around him as he crouched down before Jareth. "But the Goblin King does not seem pleased to see his brother?" he mocked.

"Half-brother," Jareth corrected adamantly. He leaned in closer to Malakair in an attempt to exert some control over the situation, hating being in such a submissive position. "Why don't you just kill me now?" he snarled, rage anaesthetising the pain of the iron shackles as they cut into his wrists. "Get it over with?" He didn't want to die, of course, and the thought of never seeing Sarah again all but tore out his heart, but neither could he stand not knowing what Malakair had planned for him.

Malakair feigned shock. "Kill you? On no, Jareth. There would be no fun in that. No fun at all. I have far too much planned for you to end it so soon."

Jareth frowned in irritation. "You have no audience, Malakair; no one to listen to your dramatic little speeches. So why don't you stop playing these games and tell me what it is you want of me? Is it revenge you seek? Compensation for your banishment?"

Malakair's face suddenly changed, a wash of rage swiftly simmering into something that resembled frustration. "You really don't know me at all, do you?" he spat resignedly. "You think I care about a little quarrel we had a lifetime ago? That I hold a grudge for a little nick you gave me?"

Jareth felt a shiver run down his spine as he met his half-brother's dark eyes, disturbed by how quickly his countenance could alter. For a fleeting moment that crazed look had disappeared and Malakair had almost looked hurt, almost looked like an ordinary man. Jareth couldn't help but drop his gaze to the scar that marred one side of Malakair's face, remembering so vividly that day when, in an attempt to defend himself, he had ripped his dagger blade through Malakair's flesh.

"No, you made me what I am today, Jareth," he revealed gently, almost with a perverse sense of gratitude. "My banishment was the best thing that could have happened to me." He shrugged dismissively. "You will still pay for what you did, but that wasn't my reason for coming back."

"Then what was?"

"Power, my dear Goblin King, power." He gestured to the room with a swish of his arms. "More precisely, this place. The Labyrinth." He smirked, seeming to delight in Jareth's confusion. "In fact, you should be rejoicing in my return, brother, not abhorring it."

Jareth was already tiring of Malakair's dramatics, suddenly wondering if it wasn't, in fact, an ironic twist of pay back for all those occasions he had tried to be charismatic around Sarah. At the time, he had just been giving her what she wanted, fulfilling her fantasy, but he had to admit that a part of him had also enjoyed it to a certain degree. "Rejoice?" he finally sneered. "What could possibly make me rejoice your return?"

"The fact that I fully intend to relieve you of your curse." Malakair abruptly stood up, folding his arms and peering down at Jareth disdainfully. "At least that is the good news. The bad news is that I doubt you will live long enough to appreciate it."

Speechless, Jareth could only stare up at his half-brother in shock as his words sunk in. To his surprise he was more concerned about the former half of Malakair's declaration that the latter, at least for the time being.

Disbelief swiftly turned to genuine fear, however, when the crazed look returned to Malakair's face and his eyes glinted malevolently.


	21. Power

Sarah eyed Marie strangely from the opposite side of the table. For some reason her cousin seemed to have suddenly become distant, her expression initially one of surprise before turning into intent concentration. She ended the bizarre series of expressions with a fleeting nod – to herself!

"Is...is everything ok?" Sarah asked, concerned, and more than a little curious.

Marie focused back onto her with an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that. The Professor was talking to me."

Sarah returned the smile, somewhat intrigued. "Freaky."

Marie shrugged dismissively. "You get used to it after a while." She quickly stood up. "He wants me to bring you down to meet Hank."

"Down?" Sarah felt the first hint of excitement stir within her. It could've meant something innocent – a basement perhaps – but she suspected down was an invitation to see some of those secrets she suspected the school kept hidden away.

"To the lower levels," Marie revealed, purposely adding an air of drama to her tone. "Prepare to have your mind totally blown away!" Sarah rose up from her chair, following her cousin's lead. "Although," Marie added thoughtfully. "It might seem pretty normal in comparison to the Labyrinth."

"We'll see," Sarah grinned.

"I should warn you about Hank though," Marie continued as they left the kitchen. "He's a wonderful man, so intelligent it makes your head hurt just thinking about it."

"But?" Sarah prompted.

"He's...er...kinda blue and furry."

Sarah's eyes widened. "Blue and furry?"

Marie smiled affectionately. "Also known as Beast."

"Well, I must admit that the Labyrinth has its fair share of those." Sarah couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness when she remembered Ludo, her gentle giant, and it still hurt to acknowledge that he had only been conjured for her fantasy and didn't really exist at all.

"I wouldn't mind visiting this Labyrinth one day," Marie decided, her tone wistful. "And meet that charismatic husband of yours."

"I'd love that. As soon as all this trouble has been resolved you've got yourself a date."

A small group of giggling teenagers passed them wearing paper hats and tinsel scarves, obviously still high on the Christmas festivities. One of them, Sarah noted, had bright blue hair and she wondered if he was related in any way to Hank. The rest looked pretty normal and again, she found herself intrigued by the idea of mutants, wondering what mutation each might have.

"I could bring Logan too," Marie joked. "Although from what you've told me about Jareth, immortality is the only thing they have in common."

"Well, having met Logan, it's pretty obvious that they're like chalk and cheese."

"In that case we've just got to introduce them! It'll be fun!"

Sarah laughed. "You haven't lost your mischievous side, I see."

"Never!" Marie declared in mock horror, as she led her cousin along the wood-panelled corridor towards the concealed elevator.

\-------

Malakair's declaration, that he was going to relieve him of the Labyrinth's curse, shocked Jareth. "And just how do you expect to do that?" he demanded. "Curses cannot be passed from person to person on a mere whim!"

"I just need a little information."

"I share nothing with you willingly," Jareth spat.

Malakair frowned. "If you want your cousin here to live, I think you will."

Jareth heard Kal gasp and when he turned saw that Miandria was pressing a dagger blade against his throat. "Tell him nothing, Jareth," Kal hissed.

"He is loyal, I'll give him that," Malakair sneered.

Jareth glared daggers of his own at his half-brother. "What is it you want to know?" he snarled.

"I want to know nothing, at least verbally."

Malakair reached forward and pressed his gloved hand against the side of Jareth's head making the Goblin King flinch disgustedly away.

"I want a certain something in here," Malakair revealed cryptically.

"You are talking in riddles!" Jareth loathed the feel of his hand against him. So close. So invasive.

"There is so much power here that you seem reluctant to harness." Malakair breathed excitedly. "You look on the Labyrinth as a curse, when actually it is an opportunity."

"And what has that got to do with my head?"

"When the curse fell upon you so did the Labyrinth's secrets. Ancient powers that have lain dormant for centuries and now continue to slumber in the deep recesses of your mind because you have yet to acknowledge them. Not things you can tell me in words exactly but a wisdom that needs to be comprehended before one can take full advantage of it's potential."

"And what evidence do you have, that these secrets have not already been realised?" Jareth demanded in a firm yet lowered tone. In truth, he had not even begun trying to decipher the secrets his half-brother spoke of – fearing the implications that might arise from doing so – but he wasn't about to reveal that to Malakair.

Malakair shook his head mockingly. "Look at you! The powerful Goblin King who does little more than sit on his throne and throw around empty commands. Who attends a few counsels and participate in a few matters of state but is little more than a fancy presence to make the Brother-Kings look good. You are nothing but a well groomed martyr, Jareth."

"How dare you!"

"And you abduct a few wished-away siblings of spoilt brats from other worlds to fulfil your obligation to the curse you abhor so very much." He smirked. "Although I would never have believed you would actually marry one."

At the reference to Sarah, Jareth visibly tensed, dragging himself forward so that he was only inches away from Malakair's face. "How do you know all of this?" The fact that Malakair seemed to know so much was worrying. Was starting to make Jareth feel nervous.

"I have done my research, Jareth. I have spies everywhere. Men who have been in my service from the very beginning, from the very moment you banished me. Taking note of everything you have ever said, ever done. Observing the Labyrinth for every change, every new charge of energy in the air. And as time has passed the sons of my spies have taken over the responsibility..." He laughed at the rage on Jareth's face. "With Miandria, steering them all. Keeping them reigned and loyal with her beauty and promises." He hesitated before adding: "As well as doing her own spying, of course."

Remembering the guard who had been with Miandria when she had attacked him with the collar, a man whom Jareth had believed to be so loyal and dedicated to his position, Jareth turned to where his half-sister squatted at Kal's side, seeming to delight in torturing the man with the dagger point. "Betraying bitch!"

Malakair immediately struck him hard across the face. "That is my sister you are talking too!" he seethed angrily. "And yours too. Show some respect!"

"She is no sister of mine!" Jareth threw back, despite literally seeing stars from Malakair's assault, his face burning painfully.

Malakair ignored him, swiftly composing himself. Too swiftly for any sane man, Jareth decided.

"No, Jareth. If you had taken the time to acknowledge even half of the Labyrinth's secrets you wouldn't be the pitiful man you are, you would be ruling most of the Underground by now. I know you, Jareth, you cannot hide the truth from me. You hunger for power just as much as I do." He looked genuinely puzzled for a moment. "Perhaps the wisdom eludes you. Perhaps you have tried to harness it and failed." He stared hard at Jareth, unnerving him with his mad probing eyes. "Or perhaps you actually fear the intensity of the power the wisdom offers..."

"I have no fear of my own mind!" Jareth snarled, pouncing as near to Malakair as his shackled would allow. "Perhaps it is you, who should be fearing your own mind!"

Malakair promptly took a step back. "Ah yes...that touched a nerve, didn't it?" he jeered. "The mighty Goblin King is afraid." He looked suddenly distant, contemplative. "But I am not afraid. The Labyrinth is my destiny. A destiny steered from the moment our father bedded my whore of a mother."

Jareth ignored his reference to the past, too concerned with the present and where this conversation was leading. "I will never allow you access to this wisdom you speak of."

Malakair snapped his gaze back on to Jareth. "Always so arrogant. So confident. But it will prove your downfall in the end. Do you still believe yourself so powerful that no one will ever dare challenge you? I thought Sarah might have taught you a thing or two about defeat, but obviously not. Or do you think that by defeating her heart you have somehow settled the score?"

Jareth seethed at his words, promising himself that Miandria would pay dearly for her deceit when he finally escaped this predicament. "My blade did not cut deep enough all those years ago, Malakair! Pity I did not cut off you heinous tongue!"

Malakair shrugged dismissively, paying no heed to Jareth's words. "It may surprise you to learn that I – only half-Fey - have become powerful myself during my banishment. Spent time with great sorcerers, magicians and shamans. Learnt from them and devoured every shred of knowledge that they offered me. One had the gift of drawing out thoughts and memories from someone's mind, made the images appear in the air around him like little visual pockets of time before sucking them into his own mind." He grinned smugly. "And guess who was his most dedicated pupil?"

"I will fight you every step of the way!" Jareth swore as it quickly dawned on him what Malakair's intensions were.

"You can try but the iron has made you weak – you won't be able to fight me for long. And if you do continue to resist me, then you can watch your cousin die." He gestured to Miandria. "I know that my sister is more than eager to perform the duty."

"Jareth!" Kal cried urgently. "Don't give in to him. He must not gain knowledge of the Labyrinth. You must not risk the whole of the Underground just for me. My father would want it so."

Jareth turned to his cousin. "Kal?" he whispered desperately, knowing that his cousin was right but not wanting to face the fact. He couldn't – wouldn't - sacrifice his best friend.

His mind raced. There must be another way. There must be. Would Miandria really kill a man in cold blood? He had known her a long time and deception aside, he couldn't see her as a murderer. Perhaps they were bluffing...Kal was King Raedin's son after all...

He slumped back against the wall, smiling grimly but deciding not to answer one way or another. Not reveal if he was willing or not.

Malakair seemed to interpret this retreat as submissiveness, although he regarded Jareth warily as he moved his gloved hands either side of Jareth's head. "No tricks," he warned.

A prickling of anxiety crept up Jareth's neck but he remained stony silent as he watched Malakair hatefully. Watched as his half-brother's eyes rolled back in their sockets and the man fell into concentration.

The effect was immediate – shocking pain that ripped through Jareth's head like nothing he had ever experienced before – and as his arms went rigid in their shackles, the poisonous metal cutting deep into his skin, he was unable to stop himself from crying out as wave after wave of torturous agony swept through him.

He battled to focus. Fought to accommodate the awful pain so that a part of him could remain steadfast. Determined to fight Malakair every step of the way. Even if it cost him his life. Kal's wasn't the only life at stake...an innocent child's was...

Malakair finally released him, falling back with an unsettling roar of rage, his eyes blazing furiously as they reverted to normal again. "You dare fight me?"

"I have no choice," Jareth gasped, as he groaned his relief, the pain quickly draining away in a succession of small aftershocks.

"You willingly sacrifice your cousin?" Malakair fumed. But then that frighteningly rapid change swept his countenance again and he suddenly looked thoughtful despite his anger. "Perhaps we are more alike than we realise, brother."

The idea repulsed Jareth. "No...I just know that you need the son of King Raedin alive. A hostage of such value is no good dead, after all." The thought had only just occurred to Jareth, realising that Raedin's standing in the Underground might also be of interest to Malakair. He didn't like putting ideas into the bastard's head but he was desperate to buy some time...anything to save his cousin...

Malakair flicked his gaze onto Kal and narrowed his eyes as he regarded the shackled man thoughtfully.

To Jareth's surprise, Miandria suddenly spoke. "As much as I would be happy to kill him," she insisted, pressing the dagger point a little harder into Kal's flesh, "There may be another way, brother."

"I am listening," Malakair breathed in frustration.

"Sarah told me once about this girl – Marie – her cousin – who had poisoned skin. She was unable to touch anyone because the moment she did, she absorbed them – their memories, their thoughts, everything. And if she held on for too long she could actually kill them, drain them completely."

Malakair moved away from Jareth and stood facing his sister, folding his arms as he whispered: "Interesting. Very interesting."

"You could use this girl to absorb Jareth...and with it the secrets of the Labyrinth that dwell in his mind...and then use your powers – your ability to draw out thought and memory – from her. She will not be as strong as Jareth. She will be unable to fight you."

"And where would I find this girl?"

"She comes from Sarah's world – Earth."

Malakair frowned. "And how, pray, am I supposed to get there?"

Jareth was listening to their exchange with concerned interest and it took him by surprise to discover that Malakair, despite boasting of his gained powers, appeared unable to cross the divide between realms. He was relieved though. He wanted this man nowhere near Sarah. And he had already guessed that Sarah would be paying her cousin a visit.

Miandria grinned wickedly, holding aloft the necklace Jareth had given her, and Jareth felt a sudden sinking feeling overcome his whole body. By the god's – no – he had forgotten the necklace!

"Jareth gave me this," Miandria announced, casting her eyes across at Jareth gleefully. "He wanted me to keep Sarah company and said that this necklace would take me to her if I concentrated on her." She stood up slowly, removing the dagger from Kal's throat and slipping it back into its case that was fixed to her belt. "So, I shall do exactly as he asks, like a good sister would, only I shall steal Sarah's necklace and force this Marie to use it; bring us both back."

"Do it now," Malakair commanded. He moved closer to Miandria, voice lowered. "Time is running out. King Raedin and his army won't be fooled by my illusions forever and could well be heading back to the Labyrinth. My powers are limited and will only hold them at bay for so long. Once I have the secrets of this place I am safe. Until then every second counts."

"I will not fail you, brother."

Malakair peered back at Jareth and smirked. "Such a pity that we haven't a third necklace. I was hoping to meet this beautiful wife of yours."

Jareth was about to return a heated retort when Miandria rested a hand on her brother's arm. "Brother...I..."

Malakair turned back to her and frowned his curiosity. "What is it?"

Miandria cast an icy glance at Jareth and then moved in closer to her brother. "I would rather Sarah not be involved in all of this."

Malakair cocked an eyebrow in surprise. "What is this, sister?"

"We have become..." she shrugged. "Friends. I like her." Again her eyes flicked to Jareth. "It is only her husband I despise."

Malakair reached for her chin, drawing her gaze back to his. "You disappoint me, Miandria. Have I not taught you that it is a weakness to form attachments with others?"

"I know," she agreed but she watched him determinedly. "But that is all I ask. For Sarah to be left alone."

Her words left Jareth feeling confused and bewildered but undeniably relieved and he hoped this wasn't just some sick game of hers. 

Malakair finally nodded. "So be it...for now, at least. We will discuss it further when you return."

"Thank you, brother."

"Now go!"

Miandria nodded, gripping the crystal tightly in her hand and closing her eyes in concentration. The next moment she vanished from the room.


	22. Beauty meets the Beast

Marie escorted a rather wide-eyed Sarah down to the lower levels of the mansion eventually taking her through into the largest of three laboratories, where the Professor and Hank awaited her arrival.

Much to Marie’s delight her cousin warmed to Hank straight away and seemed quite undaunted by his ‘blue-hairy-beast’ appearance, displaying no qualms in shaking his hand and making friendly skin-to-fur contact. Marie suspected it had something to do with a creature called Ludo whom Sarah explained had been a much-valued friend during her first infamous visit to the Labyrinth.

Marie tried umpteen times to take an interest in the conversation between her cousin and fellow X-Men, but her thoughts kept straying to Logan. Butterflies stirred in her stomach just thinking about the other intimate delights that would inevitably follow that mind-blowing kiss. She had waited so long for something to happen between them that now it finally had she felt giddy as a schoolgirl. Yet it wasn’t just about lust and the physical. The fact that he loved her, wanted to be with her, trusted her enough to bare his soul to her, was what made her heart swell with joy. She could simply daydream about him all day – those deep hazel eyes, that sweet yet guarded smile, that amazing body...she grinned inwardly, accepting that perhaps the ‘physical’ might be level-pegging with the love-stuff after all.

But when Sarah’s voice, explaining something about the Labyrinth to the Professor, invaded her reverie she mentally shook herself back to the present determined to keep her mind focused on what was happening around her. She owed it to her cousin. Wanted to be there for her every step of the way.

Hank showed them computer screen after computer screen of data that he had acquired using Nightcrawler as a subject, in his unrelenting pursuit to prove the existence of parallel dimensions, and Sarah was genuinely interested. The Professor added some further data that he had already gathered since that very first attempt to reach her with Cerebro and Marie could see the excitement in his and Hank’s faces, ripe with the knowledge that all their hard work hadn’t been in vain, and that Sarah was proof of that.

And Sarah was only too happy to extend their knowledge, although seemed frustrated that she couldn’t be more scientifically helpful. When it came to having the Professor probe her mind for information about Jareth she was more than willing and seemed fascinated rather than daunted by the experience. Marie had never seen her act so...so grown up and mature...the woman she had become as beautiful of heart than she was of face and again Marie found herself regretting those years that they had lost.

They soon found themselves standing outside Cerebro, where the Professor hesitated and looked up at Sarah in concern.

“If you wouldn’t mind, Sarah, I would rather you did not take that necklace into Cerebro with us.” He gestured to the piece of jewellery that Jareth had given her, the crystal on the end of the shiny chain still disappointingly dull.

Sarah brought a hand to her throat defensively, his words taking her by surprise. 

“I know how much it means to you and I wish that there was some other way, but I do not want to risk it’s power interfering with Cerebro’s.” He shrugged. “It might not react at all, but it may hinder my locating your husband.”

Sarah eventually nodded. “I understand.” She glanced at Marie and then back at the Professor again. “But I need to know that it’s safe,” she insisted. “If it were to become lost...I...I don’t know what I’d do.”

Marie realised then what she had to do. She dearly wanted to go into Cerebro with them all, see what Jareth and the Labyrinth looked like if the Professor _was_ able to connect to them, but seeing the distress on Sarah’s face made her mind up for her.

“Give it to me,” she offered kindly. “I’ll wait outside Cerebro whilst you do what you have to do.”

A brilliant smile swept across Sarah’s face. “Oh, would you do that, Marie? I’d appreciate it so much.” Her smile faltered. “But do you mind? Really? You seemed as excited as we did at the prospect of locating Jareth.”

Marie shrugged. “It’s not as if I haven’t visited Cerebro before.” She offered Sarah a reassuring smile of her own. “And I have a feeling I’m going to be meeting this husband of yours in the flesh pretty soon anyway.”

Sarah reached across and hugged her and Marie laughed quietly. “I’ll try to resist the impulse to wish myself away if it starts glowing.”

Sarah quickly pulled out of the embrace, the concerns returning to her face. She turned to Hank and the Professor. “What if it _does_ start glowing?”

“We will only be in here a short while,” the Professor reassured. “And I would be most surprised if it decided to glow anytime in the next ten or so minutes.”

For a brief moment Sarah appeared deep in contemplation. Then she finally nodded. “Yes. Yes, of course you’re right.”

“The Professor is _always_ right,” Marie teased and Hank chuckled quietly.

Sarah slipped her hands behind her neck and undid the clasp, eventually handing the necklace, albeit reluctantly, to Marie.

“Do you want me to put it on? Or just keep hold of it?” Marie asked, for as intrigued as she was by the idea of a teleporting necklace, she didn’t fancy suddenly being zapped - alone - to Sarah’s world.

“No, you should be ok to wear it. Jareth told me that I had to _wish_ myself to the destination I wanted to go, concentrate on it, before the magic would work.”

Marie nodded, slipping it on but she couldn’t help but grin again. “In that case, I’ll try not to concentrate too hard on Brad Pitt’s bedroom.”

Sarah grinned back and her anxieties abated once more. “I don’t think Logan would be too impressed by that,” she laughed.

The Professor expertly turned his wheelchair and moved closer to Cerebro’s large circular doors. A disembodied female voice suddenly announced _welcome Professor._ As the door panels slid smoothly apart Marie took one final look at her cousin, at the unabashed amazement upon Sarah’s face, and she wondered if the world of the X-Men might, after all, turn out to be as extraordinary to her as the Labyrinth had been.

She couldn’t help but reach for Sarah’s arm as she made to follow the Professor into Cerebro, and in her best Logan-esque drawl promised: ‘you aint seen ‘nothing’ yet, kiddo.”

The warm smile Sarah offered in return gave Marie a different kind of stirring inside. Made her feel another form of love. The love that only friendship could forge.

“I’ve seen _you_ again, Marie, “Sarah whispered, her beautiful green eyes intense. “And that’s the most special thing.”

As Sarah turned with a modest flick of her long dark hair and followed Hank and the Professor into Cerebro Marie felt tears prick at her eyes. And at that moment she had never felt happier.

Logan and Sarah. The two most precious people in the world to her were both here. Were both close. Sarah in the incredible technological marvel known as Cerebro, and Logan, no doubt, kicking Sabretooth’s ass in The Danger Room just down the corridor. And it felt so good to have them both residing in the place she now called home.

Marie choked back her emotions.

So far, it had been the most perfect Christmas ever.

\------

Logan thudded against The Danger Room wall with a grunt, the wind momentarily knocked out of him. Snapping his gaze back onto the giant shadow that was rapidly looming he rolled immediately to his feet, claws shooting out with a snikt, to face his opponent again.

“You’ll pay for that, bub!” he growled, directing a razor-sharp claw at Sabretooth, the adrenaline coursing like wildfire through his veins, quickly bringing him to his senses again.

The ugly looking mutant before him only snarled, his black eyes blazing with loathing. “Don’t make threats you can’t keep, little man!”

Logan cocked his head, pleasantly taken aback. Scott’s modifications were getting better. It was literally like fighting the real thing – Victor’s limited dialogue the icing on the cake.

“Oh, I keep every one of my threats, bub, believe me!” Logan countered with a warning frown.

And the fight resumed again – vicious slashes and savage blows chorused by a procession of grunts, curses and snarls. Logan savoured every second of it, every single slash. Never feeling more alive than when he was kicking The Brotherhood’s asses – every last one of them. After what they had done to Marie on top of the Statue of Liberty, he couldn’t hurt them enough and he knew that he would never be completely satisfied until he was doing it for real.

Mystique was next.

“End Sabretooth program!” he called out suddenly, his fight with the hairy mutant far from over but wanting to save some enthusiasm for the blue bitch. He also had to admit that his fighting was a little _off_ today, that he was far too preoccupied with thoughts of Marie to react with his usual swiftness to every cunning ploy devised to test his worth. Scott’s modification had notched up the difficulty rating quite a bit and whilst Logan usually relished the challenge, today was not a good day to remain focused enough to meet it.

Sabretooth disappeared and Logan was almost sorry to see him go. He was about to demand: “Begin Mystique program!” when a quite different, and quite unprompted figure suddenly appeared before him.

His eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t even requested a new fighting partner yet. Who the hell was this? Definitely not Mystique, unless Scott’s modifications had given her hologram the ability to shape shift too, which he very much doubted. But whoever it was, he definitely hadn’t encountered this mutant before.

She was beautiful – her eyes dark and striking, her waist length hair wavy and voluminous, and her body curved in all – _all_ \- the right places, but she also looked undeniably dangerous beneath that seemingly innocent exterior.

Logan let out a snort. Nothing new there. Most of the female members of the Brotherhood possessed such a deceptive persona. He was just lucky to have a sense of smell strong enough to suss them out.

And this one smelt decidedly...questionable...it was only subtle but there was something not quite kosher about it ...he hesitated...yet he also sensed alarm. She was afraid of him.

No. That couldn’t be right.

And then it suddenly dawned on him. Dawned on him that as technologically advanced the Danger Room was, it had yet to produce opponents with _scents_.

After her initial shock to be there, she registered him in a panic, staring down at his hands in horror. “Please...” she gushed, promptly taking a step back and gesturing with her arms for him to keep away from her. “Don’t hurt me! Sarah! I’m here for Sarah! Jareth sent me!” She looked around her wildly. “Where is she? What is this place?” She flicked her gaze back onto him, eyes narrowing despite the wariness in them. “And who are you?”

He retracted his claws and raised a bemused eyebrow, taking his time to register her words. She had not only mentioned both Sarah and Jareth but it was obvious now that she wasn’t a hologram.

He frowned suspiciously.

But if she wasn’t a hologram, who the hell was she?


	23. An Easy Abduction

''Name's Logan," Logan stated as he folded his arms across his chest, the leather of his uniform creaking under the strain. He watched her guardedly, eyes narrowing to forge his trademark scowl. "And you are?" 

" _I_ am the Lady Miandria," she returned, over emphasising the _I_ as if his ignorance annoyed her. But her countenance swiftly changed and she flashed him a pearly white smile. "Sarah has never mentioned a _Logan_ before," she insisted, regarding him almost shyly from beneath lowered lashes.

"That's probably because we only just met today." Great smile, darlin', he thought, dryly. About as phoney as that attempt at being coy.

"She is here then?"

Logan shrugged. "Somewhere. With Marie."

"Marie?" Logan could almost see the bulb light up above her head. "Ah, yes – Marie - Sarah has mentioned _her_ before."

There was that look in her eyes again, a flash of something that unsettled Logan. He had seen it in Mystique's eyes more than once and the word _devious_ instantly came to mind.

He frowned, perplexed. But, one - she was obviously not Mystique; two - she seemed to know Sarah; and three - there just wasn't enough malice laced through her scent to give him immediate cause for alarm.

His blatant negative appraisal obviously bothered her however and she snapped her hands down onto her curvaceous hips. "My sudden appearance does not seem to affect you. Do you often have strange women just materialise in front of you?"

"'seen a lot of strange shit since joinin' the X-Men. You're nothing new."

"X-Men?" her features seemed to sharpen, become more alert.

Logan thought it best to keep her in the dark for now, just until he had her sussed. "I'll let Sarah explain that one to you, I'm kinda in the middle of something right now." Sarah wouldn't know much, he acknowledged, and second-hand knowledge would be minus the important facts. Facts that Xavier wouldn't want broadcasting. Even to people from other worlds.

"Take me to her," she ordered, cocking her head expectantly.

Logan's frown deepened. If nothing else, she was turning out to be one hell of a bitch – perhaps that was what his attuned senses were picking up. "Ever heard of the word _please_ , darlin'?"

She flinched as if she had been physically attacked and Logan doubted she was used to being taken down a peg or two. When her face eventually softened Logan felt it was more because she had no choice rather than a genuine action. She dropped her gaze. "I...I apologise for my shortness...I'm just eager to be reunited with Sarah, that's all. I'm not used to travelling between worlds. It's _very_ disorientating."

As she met his stare again that smile flashed a second time and Logan wondered if she practised them in the mirror each morning before breakfast. But he wasn't buying the nice girl act. He could literally smell the bullshit radiating from her.

Unfortunately, he doubted that anyone except Chuck and Jean would be wise to her, not possessing his keen senses or their telepathy, and he wondered if that was how she had secured Sarah's friendship. He couldn't believe that someone like Sarah would have tolerated her otherwise.

"So? How yer' connected to this 'Jareth'?" he asked, wanting to be sure before he let her loose on Sarah and Marie.

"He is my brother." She shrugged, running a hand through her hair dispassionately. "Well, half brother," she amended although it seemed that neither appealed to her much.

"Right." Ah, maybe Sarah had no choice but to remain civil to her, Logan surmised, them being sister-in-laws an' all. Poor kid!

Logan turned away from her. "End all programmes. Exit Danger Room," he called out and the circular doors parted silently and smoothly to reveal the exit.

"Follow me," he requested nonchalantly, realising that the sooner he got rid of her the sooner he could return and kick Mystique's blue scaley ass.

***

Bored, Marie peered down at her watch as she lent back against the smooth metallic wall. Sarah had been in Cerebro with Hank and the Professor for fifteen minutes and she wondered if they had been able to locate Jareth yet. Or even the Underground. She hoped so. Sarah was trying desperately to hide the majority of her concerns but even after all these years being apart Marie could still tune in to her emotions and it was obvious that she was extremely anxious about her husband. 

She idly lifted the chain of Sarah's necklace and observed the crystal with a childlike fascination. So, she only had to concentrate and it would take her anywhere? She'd be a teleporter, just like Kurt. The idea was not unappealing and she toyed, half-heartedly with the idea of suddenly zapping herself into The Danger Room just to see the look on Logan's face (before she covered it with apologetic kisses) but quickly released the crystal, dropping it back to her chest, worried that even thinking about it might be enough. The last thing she wanted to do was exhaust its power or anything.

Just then she heard one of the lifts swish open a little further along the corridor. Scott stepped out. He caught her stare, offered a hint of a smile and strolled casually over.

"The Professor still in Cerebro?" he asked, gesturing to the room with a tilt of his head.

"Yeah, with Hank and Sarah," she returned, trying hard to keep the impatience from her voice.

Scott considered the entrance of the _big round room_ through his latest pair of high-tech shades, before glancing back at Marie. "The snow has relented enough to take Robert to the motel where his wife and son are located. Storm and I are going to drive him out there now in the SUV. We shouldn't be gone long – the motel isn't far out of the city."

Smiling gratefully, Marie reached across to gently squeeze his arm through his black sweater. "Thanks for doing this, Scott." As her hand retreated, she added: "And thank Storm too. I hope all this business with Sarah isn't spoiling everyone's Christmas."

He grinned and Marie found herself wishing, not for the first time, that she could see his eyes, just for the endearing crinkles she knew would have formed in the corners. "To be honest, it'll be good to get away from the kids for a while," he confessed, somewhat sheepishly. "Saying that they're hyper at this time of year would be an understatement."

Marie grinned back. "Yeah! Tell me about it!" Although her smile wasn't to last. "But it's nice to see them so happy, isn't it? Most of them haven't had a lot of fun since their mutation kicked in."

Scott nodded soberly. "Yeah," he agreed with a sigh.

They regarded one another for a few moments, exchanging frustrated vibes: of the mutant problem, of senseless hate, of the desire for peace, of the responsibilities that came with being a member of the X-Men.

"Logan in the Danger Room?" he finally enquired, in an attempt to change the subject and distinguish the tension that had gathered.

"Kicking Sabretooth's ass as we speak, I'd guess."

"Escaping the kids more like."

"Well, there's that too," Marie laughed.

"Tell him that if he's up for it, I wouldn't mind a one on one when Storm and I get back." He patted his perfectly flat stomach. "I'm a little stuffed after that all that buffet food and could do with the exercise."

"That's what _he_ said," Marie grinned. "D'ya know? You two get more and more alike every day."

Marie could tell that he was rolling his eyes. "Don't tell _him_ that," Scott despaired. "He still calls me a pansy-ass at every opportunity."

"Logan calls anyone who doesn't drink beer a pansy-ass, I shouldn't take it personally."

"I don't! I've developed a very thick skin where the Wolverine is concerned!" Scott turned and made his way back across to the lift, which had remained open for the duration of their brief conversation.

As the lift door closed Marie called out: "good luck with Robert and Toby!" before adding: and The Wicked Witch of the West, into the silence of her mind. But she suddenly felt anxious. How was that going to work out? Could Robert just claim his son back? Would Karen put up a fight? And how would Scott and Storm deal with it?

She glared frustratedly back at Cerebro wishing the Professor would hurry up.

No sooner had the elevator door closed than the Danger Room door opened. Marie felt her heart quicken as she quickly turned. 

Logan strode out looking positively sinful in his tight leather uniform, but for some reason, rather than possessing that air of smug satisfaction that usually surrounded him after a session in the Danger Room, he looked quite irritated.

Marie started towards him but stopped in her tracks, shocked to see a woman follow soon after him. A woman she had never seen before. A very beautiful woman.

He seemed surprised but relieved to see her, offering a fleeting but tender smile that made her stomach flip. "What yer doin' out here? Shouldn't you be with Chuck?"

Marie gestured to the necklace. "Sarah couldn't take this into Cerebro – the Professor thought that it might interfere with things - so I'm looking after it for her."

She locked eyes with the woman who was suddenly watching her with interest. "Who's - ?"

Logan gestured to Miandria with a backward, rather blasé, flick of his thumb. "Marie – Miandria; Miandria – Marie."

Marie gave the woman a wary smile before returning her attentions to Logan, conscious of her brow crinkling questioningly.

"Jareth's sister," Logan added, answering the look she gave him.

"Sister? But...how?"

Marie knew Logan well enough now to read the little tell-tale quirks and could tell that he was eager to be getting back to the Danger Room. He moved closer to her but Miandria was hot on his heels.

He peered back at the woman. "Can you give us a minute, darlin?"

A little put out, Miandria halted in her tracks. Meanwhile Logan ushered Marie into one of the small laboratories located about twenty yards down the corridor from Cerebro.

Marie gaped back at him as he closed the door behind them. "Logan? What's going on?"

He sighed. "It's times like this that I envy Jean and Chuck for being telepathic."

Marie felt decidedly bewildered. "Care to elaborate?"

"I don't trust her."

"Who? Jean?"

The thumb gestured again. "Her back there. Jareth's sister."

"What makes you say that?"

"She don't smell right."

Marie grinned. "Perhaps she hasn't had a bath recently."

He gripped hold of her shoulders and his hazel eyes wandered her face sternly. "I'm being serious here, baby."

"Sorry." Marie chewed down upon her lip as she stared up at him. "How _bad_ does she smell then?"

He looked frustrated as he gently released her. "I dunno," he admitted. "She's tricky. Not _Brotherhood_ bad, but..." he shrugged. "There's something not quite right about her."

Marie remembered all what Sarah had told her, about Jareth and his world. "Well, I'm assuming that she has just come from this _Underground_ that Sarah told us about, so perhaps..." It was her turn to shrug. "Perhaps they just smell different to humans."

He appeared to consider Marie's suggestion. "Sarah smelt OK."

"But Sarah _is_ human, remember?" Marie pointed out.

The thoughtful look resumed on his rugged face before he concluded: "You could be right."

"I'm always right, sugar."

Her closing sentiment made him grin and he reached up to caress her cheek with his gloved hand. "'love it when you call me that."

Marie shivered beneath his touch. "I love calling you it," she whispered back.

He moved in to kiss her, urging her back against the wall, and Marie simply melted beneath him as their mouths moulded perfectly together and their tongues duelled passionately.

Marie reluctantly eased him away. "Logan...we can't do this right now..."

He scowled and it made Marie want to kiss him all over again. Glancing across at the door his eyes narrowed decisively. "'think I might postpone the Danger Room and stay with you. Just until Chuck's finished in Cerebro."

Marie shook her head. "Logan, you're gagging to get back, it's written all over your face, and the Professor shouldn't be long now," she insisted. "Besides, what harm can she possibly do in five minutes?" She lowered her voice just in case Jareth's sister had decided to wander closer. "...do you _really_ think?"

He moved away, running his hand through his hair, perturbed. "I don't wanna leave you with her..."

"You haven't answered my question."

"In five minutes?" he relented. "Not a lot."

"Then go back to your ass kicking."

A smile tugged at the corners of Logan's mouth. "I should warn yer' that she's one hell of a bitch."

Marie laughed quietly. "Is that all? I think I can handle one of those, Logan."

He grinned, somewhat grudgingly. "Yeah – 'course yer' can. Guess I'm being over protective..."

"You've been over protective since the minute we met," she teased affectionately. "But I'm a woman now - all grown up. I can take care of myself."

He moved in on her again, and she found herself pressed back against the wall once more. "All grown up, huh?" he breathed into her ear.

"Yeah," she promised huskily, heart beginning to gain momentum. "And as soon as we get some down time I'm gonna show you _just_ how grown up I can really be." She was as shocked by the bluntness of her words as Logan and a deep growl resonated up from the Wolverine's chest. "Don't say things like that, darlin'. Patience was never one of my virtues."

"Then see it as a bittersweet torment," she smirked.

Their gazes remained locked for several heated moments before Marie took a deep breath to calm herself and glanced across at the closed door. "We better get back out there. She'll be wondering where we are."

"Let her."

"Go back to your ass kicking, Logan. I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

Marie rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Go! Or I'll kick _your_ ass!"

But she didn't feel so confident when they re-joined a rather impatient looking Miandria in the corridor and she almost called Logan back as he stepped into the Danger Room again. She felt a wash of nausea flood through her as the doors finally closed behind him. For some crazy reason she felt that she was never going to see him again.

"Sarah has often talked about you," Miandria said in an attempt to break the ice.

Marie tore her gaze away from the Danger Room. "She has?"

"You are very special to her."

Marie was taken by the woman's beauty. She was quite breath-taking. And yet...perhaps it was what had also bothered Logan...but her eyes...although beautiful too...looked... cruel? She shook the idea away. Perhaps she was reading too much into Logan's words.

"I would've loved to have been there – at the wedding," she began regretfully, and felt a pang of hurt at not being included in Sarah big day. They had promised, long ago, to be one another's maid of honour. She could have consoled herself with the belief that travelling between worlds might have proven difficult...but the transporting necklace now located around her neck seemed to contradict that excuse.

"It was a truly spectacular event," Miandria revealed with a wide smile. "Royalty from all four corners of the Underground attended. Sarah looked positively stunning."

Marie smiled gently. "I can imagine."

"And pray, where is my Earth-sister?"

"Earth-sister?"

"Just a silly name that I like to call her."

"Oh." Marie couldn't help it but she was already feeling jealous of Sarah and Miandria's relationship. Although it didn't help that Miandria seemed to be laying it on thick...as if she was somehow trying to prove a point.

"Sarah's in there." Marie indicated the doors of Cerebro. "With two of my friends. They're trying to locate your brother actually, to check that he's safe." Realisation suddenly dawned on her. "But if you've just left the Underground you'll know already..."

Miandria paled at her words but another smile attempted to counteract the alarm that was slowly but surely creeping into her face. "Oh yes. Jareth is quite safe. Quite safe," she reassured hurriedly. "I left him only a short while ago."

Marie eyed her apprehensively, even a little suspiciously, for the woman looked quite anxious all of a sudden. _Was_ Jareth safe? she wondered in alarm.

Miandria enthusiastically gestured to the necklace around Marie's neck before lifting an exact copy from her own chest. "Snap!" she announced, but her countenance still looked decidedly ill at ease. Still betrayed something that...in Logan's own words...wasn't quite right. "Such clever devises, are they not? And so good of you to guard Sarah's for her. Are they exactly the same, I wonder?"

Marie found her gush of words mildly dizzying and when the woman moved in to better observe Sarah's necklace she found herself flinching away from her.

Miandria's eyes instantly met hers and Marie felt a shiver run down her spine when she sensed that cruelness within them again. "What is wrong, Marie?" Miandria asked curtly. "Do I...frighten you?"

Marie struggled to conjure a smile. "Of course not. It's just my skin," she lied, knowing full well that she could control her mutation now. "It...it...isn't safe to touch."

Miandria's eyes bored into hers. "Oh yes. Sarah has told me all about your awful curse." She brought up her hand complete with black silken glove and from the corner of her vision Marie was conscious of a large bulbous ring on one of the woman's fingers.

"That is why I wore gloves, see," Miandria reassured, although her voice was anything but soothing. "Just for you." There was a few seconds of silence before Miandria added: "I must admit, this has been incredibly easy. My brother _will_ be pleased."

Her eyes. Marie couldn't tear her gaze away from them. They were so hypnotic. So...binding. She felt her own eyes grow heavy in response and she fought to resist the sensation as she wondered why Jareth would be pleased...

"Yes," Miandria resumed in earnest. "I know all about _poor_ Marie's nasty curse. In fact, Sarah never _'stops_ talking about you. Marie this and Marie that." The grin wavered and died and suddenly the woman didn't look half as beautiful anymore. "That's why I'm here."

"I...I don't understand," Marie murmured drowsily. What was happening to her? Why was she feeling so...sleepy?

"Oh, you soon will," Miandria spat venomously. "Just keep looking into my eyes."

Marie sensed movement, something to do with that ring, but she was powerless to avert her gaze to investigate. She heard the puff of Miandria blowing what felt like fine sand into her face and it stung her skin painfully, made her want to choke.

Logan had been right, she realised in dismay, barely able to think coherently anymore. The woman wasn't to be trusted. But he was in the Danger Room. He couldn't help her. No one was around to help her.

She tried desperately to call out to the Professor but her mind was too weak, too muddled...and rapidly turning dark...

So dark...

Oh, Logan...


	24. The Rogue Meets the Goblin King

Sent sprawling for the third time in as many minutes by a very powerful and very ruthless long blue leg, Logan finally decided to call it a day. 

"End Mystique program!" he growled as he sprung angrily to his feet, grimacing at the sharp pain that exploded in his chest. As he watched the hologram disappear before his eyes he didn't know whether to feel sorry or relieved to see her go but as his healing factor set to work mending whatever damage she had inflicted he finally settled for the latter.

He had to admit that One Eye's modifications were getting better and better. He could, albeit grudgingly, even stretch to an exceptional on this occasion. Unfortunately, the man's tinkering with the software also had the worst possible timing. Rolling the kinks out of his neck with a stomach-churning click, Logan realised he had made a mistake returning to The Danger Room.

The truth was he just didn't feel right about leaving Marie with that woman.

Dragging off his leather gloves he strode towards the large circular doors, his body already as good as new again. "Exit Danger Room!"

His departure mirrored that of one Professor Charles Xavier, who was in the process of leaving Cerebro with Hank and Sarah.

A very upset looking Sarah, Logan noted with a raised eyebrow.

As Charles wheeled out into the corridor and caught sight of Logan his face was grave.

"I take it things didn't go too well?" Logan started, half preoccupied with searching the corridor for Marie.

"That depends upon ones interpretation of events," the Professor sighed. "There is good and bad news, I'm afraid." He flicked his eyes onto Sarah and then back to Logan again. "The good news is that I was able to successfully connect to the Underground using Cerebro and in doing so, locate Jareth."

"And the bad?"

"The bad news is that Sarah's husband appears to be in some kind of trouble."

"Shackled-to-a-dungeon-wall trouble, to be precise," Hank added sombrely from the Professor's side.

"I have to go to him. I have to use the necklace and go back." Suppressed tears were clouding Sarah's eyes, threatening to spill down her face at any moment. "Before it's too late."

"You must allow us to assist you in some way first, Sarah." Charles insisted, looking up at her in concern. "It will be dangerous for you to return alone."

Sarah glared at him. "One necklace, remember!" she snapped, her mounting distress making her inadvertently short tempered. She turned away from him to peer up and down the corridor restlessly. "Where is Marie? She promised to wait."

"She isn't here?" Logan blurted, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. He had a bad feeling about this. A feeling he didn't even want to dare contemplate. "I left her less than ten minutes ago with Jareth's sister."

All eyes turned to him.

"Jareth's sister?" Charles pressed urgently. "Please explain."

Logan was far more interested in locating Marie. He could still smell her but her scent was faint and somehow...tainted.

"Logan?" Charles persisted.

Logan snapped narrowed eyes onto the Professor. "She just appeared outta nowhere in the Danger Room," he rushed impatiently. "Jareth sent her or somethin'. For Sarah."

"Miandria is here?" Sarah gasped.

Logan ignored her, his nostrils flaring. "What's that weird smell?"

"Smell?" Hank sniffed at the air curiously.

"Kinda like burnin'...but...with a hint of somethin' else...somethin'..."

"Rotten?" Sarah suggested, somewhat shakily.

"Yeah...somethin' bad...like eggs."

"Like sulphur," Hank put in scientifically.

"Oh my god." Sarah hugged herself with her arms, paling disturbingly fast.

"What is it, Sarah?" Hank reached out a furry hand to rest upon her arm.

"Sindlebane," she whispered, horrified.

"Excuse me?"

She glanced across at Logan. "The Warlocks use it to...to knock people out. To make them unconscious."

Her words made everything suddenly crystal clear and for a moment Logan couldn't breathe as the world seemed to close in on him suffocatingly. "No!" he cried out, his voice echoing chillingly up and down the metallic corridor.

He tore passed them, abruptly halting a short distance away to sweep his gaze around him wildly, hands running through his hair in a panic. "Marie!" Yet deep down he knew that it was fruitless. That he was wasting his time.

She was gone. 

That faint, torturous hint of a smell that barely lingered now was all that remained of her sweet-as-honey scent and he inhaled it desperately, practically choking it down as he battled his emotions, devouring that last remnant of her as if his life depended upon it.

She was gone.

He snapped his gaze onto the Professor and luckily the man promptly caught on.

"She's gone," Charles confirmed with a fleeting nod, his face distraught, his telepathy finally delivering him the cutting blow now that he was open to it.

"That fuckin' bitch has taken her!" Logan snarled, face darkening murderously. "I knew I shouldn't have trusted her!"

But his rage burnt out as quickly as it had flamed, as he began to crumble beneath the weight of defeat, his countenance flooding with guilt and despair. "I let it happen," he stated blankly, his shoulders hunching as he scrubbed a hand across his face. "I let it happen. It's all my fault."

Sarah had to steady herself against Hank's massive bulk. "Oh no..." she started weakly. "The necklace...I no longer have the necklace...I can't get back..."

****

Marie slowly opened her eyes, eyes that felt uncomfortably sore and itchy, as if sand had been kicked into them. As she blinked, they began to water, a stray tear sliding down her cheek as a result, and she brought her hands up to rub at them vigorously. It seemed to do the trick 

As she focused upon her surroundings she realised that the ceiling had changed from smooth metallic to what appeared to be rough dirty stone, although it was hard to tell through the half-light.

Stone?

She blinked some more

Where the hell was she? 

Licking her dry lips she swallowed instinctively and immediately swept a hand up to her neck as she grimaced in pain. Her throat burnt like fire! Felt as if she had downed a glassful of glass shards.

She attempted to rise up into a sitting position but her body protested instantly, the world beginning to spin nauseously. Hunching forward she could do little more than cradle her head in her hands until the feeling passed.

It was all flooding back to her now. Talking with Miandria in the corridor outside Cerebro. The woman blowing something in her face. The world turning dark as she must have passed out.

"Owwww," she moaned beneath her breath. "What did she do to me?"

"Sindlebane, I would hazard a guess," a weak, decidedly English sounding voice offered and Marie wrenched her gaze around with a gasp.

She gaped at the man chained to the unsavoury looking dungeon wall. At his pale, sharply angular face, his yellow crop of wild otherworldly hair, and mesmerising mismatched eyes: one blue, one brown.

One blue? One brown?

She knew exactly who he was.

"Jareth?" she dared, heart kicking up a notch.

Her acknowledgment did not appear to faze him. "And I believe you are Marie."

She nodded, dumbstruck.

Those bewitching eyes implored her. "Tell me that she is safe." His words both demanded and pleaded.

Again, Marie had no doubts as to whom he meant. "Sarah is safe," she reassured gently.

Jareth dropped his head back against the wall, closing his eyes as he sighed his relief. "Thank the gods."

"But I'm afraid you are not," another voice cut in from behind her. Marie turned, although as she did so she was surprised to note that she wasn't bound in any way. In fact, she had actually been lying upon a thin mattress. A rather foul, poor excuse for a mattress, sprouting dank grimy straw, but a better bed than the floor.

The source of the voice was that of another man, this time shackled to the far wall. Although he was darkened by shadow, enough torchlight splayed across his crouched form to enable her to make out most of his features.

He was younger and less distinguished than Jareth but no less attractive, his dark hair flopping in front of his face rather endearingly, whilst his eyes, hazel like Logan's, looked warm and honest. Marie frowned as she noted a large angry bruise covering the top half of his cheek.

He offered her an almost apologetic smile, despite the fact that the slightest facial movement seemed to pain him. "I'm Kal. Jareth's cousin." His smile faltered. "Our sincere apologies for all of this."

"Where am I?" Marie asked nervously but before either could answer she came to her own conclusion: "Although I think I can guess. The Labyrinth, right?"

"I'm assuming that Sarah has told you about our world," Jareth deduced solemnly, which Marie translated as a yes.

"Kinda," she returned carefully, not quite sure what world details Jareth exactly meant. "She didn't go into depth but I...I kinda know the basics."

She took a deep breath, regarding The Goblin King with something that bordered upon awe. Sarah certainly hadn't exaggerated those fine features of his. He wasn't exactly her type, which basically boiled down to dark, hairy and brooding – a la Logan – but there was something irresistibly compelling about him. She could even go as far as call him beautiful. Sarah had described him as Fey - which she assumed meant some sort of fairy creature - and watching him now, Marie could believe it.

"Can you tell me why I'm here?" she continued in earnest, trying to keep her voice strong when inside she was anything but. "Why did your sister drug me?"

Jareth's eyes flared dangerously, his reaction making her flinch. "She is no sister of mine!"

Kal's groan impelled Marie to turn and peer back at him quizzically. "So you keep saying, cousin," he teased, although she could detect affection in his tone too. He grinned at her before mouthing silently: "he tends to be a tad melodramatic."

"Kal," Jareth sighed. "As much as I appreciate your unrelenting good humour, especially whilst supporting a bruise the size of a Bellfruit, unless you hadn't noticed, we are shackled to a wall and time is short." He met Marie's gaze seriously. "Marie, I will be both brief and blunt. My half brother and sister have taken over the Labyrinth, have imprisoned us here, and want some information from me that I have no intention of giving. Knowledge that could put the whole of the Underground under threat. However, Miandria learnt from Sarah about your..." he hesitated before adding: "unfortunate mutation...and Malakair – my half brother – intends to use it to obtain this information from me."

"That was blunt," Kal agreed from the shadows.

Shocked, Marie shook her head as she settled back down onto the mattress again. "Not again," she begged beneath her breath, as a shiver snaked down her spine. She hugged herself with her arms. "Please not again." Memories of Magneto and the Statue of Liberty flashed through her mind, events that she had all but forgotten, except in nightmares. Although it wasn't exactly the same as what Jareth envisaged, it still boiled down to the simple fact - her being used. Being forced to use her mutation for something...wrong.

"I won't do it!" she blurted defiantly. "I won't be used again."

Jareth watched her sympathetically. "Brave words, Marie, but I fear you will not have much choice."

Marie swept her gaze around her, located the dungeon door, rose to her feet and hurried over to it. As she suspected, it was locked. She turned back to Jareth and Kal in bewilderment, the white streaks in her hair vivid in the half-light. "Why is it that you're chained to the wall when the door is locked anyway?"

"Iron," Kal stated simply. "It keeps us weak."

Marie frowned. "I...I don't understand."

"Iron is poison to the Fey," Jareth revealed with an air of irritation, although Marie guessed that his attitude wasn't so much aimed at her, as to the subject matter itself.

"Poison?" Her eyes widened as they flicked from Jareth to Kal. "Are you...are you alright?"

Seemingly taken by her concern, Kal smiled appreciatively. "We will survive."

"For now," Jareth put in sullenly.

Marie hurried over to examine Jareth's shackles, where the chains disappeared into the wall. Testing their strength she was disheartened to discover that despite the damp masonry crumbling in sections they didn't yield an inch. "Damn! I could do with Scott's help right now," she despaired.

"It is no good, Marie." Jareth intervened firmly. "Save your strength. Malakair plans to return as soon as the Sindlebane wears off." He regarded her curiously. "Which, I must say, has been rather swift in your case. It usually renders its victims unconscious for at least an hour."

Marie chewed down upon her lip fretfully. "Someone I touched...a long time ago now...was a mutant like me...and, well, I absorbed some of their mutation...which was incredibly fast healing." She shrugged. "I think I must still have some of it within me because I seem to recover from illnesses a lot quicker than I used to. So I guess it's the same with the Sindlebane." She offered them a sheepish smile. "It was an accident...and he's fine now. I didn't kill him or anything."

"Whatever the reason," Jareth affirmed. "Malakair will not have anticipated such a speedy recovery. It will buy us some time."

"What do you have in mind, cousin?" Kal inquired, intrigued.

"Marie. I need to know all there is to know about your mutation if we are going to use it to our advantage."

"We are?" Marie croaked warily as she quickly knelt beside him. It seemed someone else wanted to use her now. She knew that Jareth would have only the best of intensions but she still didn't like the idea. How on earth could they use her mutation to their advantage?

Jareth appeared to have developed a sudden interest in her hands. "I notice that you are not wearing gloves. Sarah said that you always had to wear gloves to protect those around you." His eyes flicked to hers for an explanation.

"I can control it now," she revealed gently as she watched him, perplexed, wondering where this questioning was leading.

A hint of a smile tugged at Jareth's lips. "That was what I hoped you would say."

"But how can that help us?"

"We will know something Malakair won't," Jareth declared smugly.


	25. Divided Loyalties

Miandria watched her brother with curious interest as he admired the painting. The lavishly framed portrait of Sarah dressed in a stunning emerald gown and wearing her long hair, adorned with delicate ornate flowers, piled up on top of her head, was life-size and hung in a prominent position in the Royal Gallery beside a painting of The Goblin King himself.

She was surprised to notice Malakair’s face soften slightly.

“The Goblin Queen is quite exquisite,” he announced suddenly as he stood firm, legs parted, hands clasped tightly behind his back and pressing deep into his heavy cloak.

Miandria ran her gaze over the painting and had to admit that the gown brought out the green of Sarah’s eyes strikingly. “Yes, Sarah is lovely,” she agreed after a slight hesitation, although she was unable to stop a slither of grudging slip into her tone. “The Kingdom adores her.”

Without moving his head, Malakair flicked his eyes onto her, casting her a sidelong glance. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy, sister?” he teased, voice so deep and commanding that it seemed at odds with the mischief laced through his words.

Miandria ran a hand through her hair vainly, her chin jutting slightly in childlike defiance. “Initially, perhaps,” she confessed as a restrained frown threatened to flaw her perfectly smooth forehead. “But it is very difficult to dislike Sarah.” She rolled her eyes despairingly. “And believe me, I tried. I tried to follow your advice, brother. For you are right, of course. Attachments do weaken us.” She shrugged dismissively. “But it is done now and I do not regret it exactly. Besides, our friendship may even prove you wrong. Prove advantageous.”

Malakair returned his attentions back to Sarah’s portrait, regarding it thoughtfully. “Perhaps, on this occasion, you may be right.”

“I am?” Miandria ran her gaze the length of his impressive profile, noticing his pupils dilate as his interest in the painting intensified, giving the disconcerting impression that his eyes were entirely black.

“I want her,” he declared bluntly.

Miandria mentally flinched, taken aback. Not only by her brother’s words but by the way she instantly reacted to them. “Sarah would not make it easy for you,” she insisted adamantly, trying to keep the concern from her voice. “She is a very spirited woman.”

Malakair eyed her sternly. “You rise to her defence quickly,” he pointed out, clearly disproving. “I assumed your loyalties lie with me.”

“They do, brother. Always.” Miandria blurted, yet at the same time she was shocked by the emotions flooding through her.

Was she afraid of Malakair?

It was true that their meetings had been few and far between over the years but their contact via letters and spies had been constant and even comforting. Granted, it had mostly focused upon their plot to overthrow Jareth but even so...he was her family...her true family...her blood...she had always looked up to him...trusted him...

“Good,” he snapped back with a curt nod, turning to reach for her cheek. As he caressed it gently with the back of his gloved hand he grinned. “Little Mia would not disappoint her brother now, would she?”

Miandria felt a shiver run down her spine as her eyes locked with his and her heart suddenly starting beating wildly in her ears. “Never,” she whispered back, and she genuinely meant it. She loved this man who was little more than a stranger to her and she would not allow the attachment she had forged with Sarah jeopardise that in any way. She had dreamed of this reunion for too long.

Even if...even if he did frighten her...

For he was her world, all that she had left of her past and all she yearned for her future.

The only living link to her mother.

“Sarah’s beauty has captured the hearts of many men,” she revealed tensely, forcing a smile as her heart calmed once more.

Malakair looked at her as if she was mad. “You think she has captured my heart?” he scorned. “Be realistic, sister, I have never even met the woman. Her beauty heats my blood, that is all.”

In an instant, Sarah was forgotten and Miandria’s eyes blazed with the same fever that now possessed her brother. She knew all about this heat Malakair spoke of.

“Then whilst we are on the subject of people we want, I have a demand too,” she started excitedly.

Malakair smirked. “Pray, tell.”

“I want the mortal known as Logan,” she revealed determinedly, her stomach twisting into knots at the memory of him, those few moments they had shared on Sarah’s Earth. “I have spent my whole life searching for a man worthy of my attentions. One who shares this fire that rages in my soul. Fey men are so,” she wrinkled her nose in distaste. “So delicate, so fragile. They fail to satisfy me.”

She inhaled deeply; her hand rising to press against her chest as if the mere thought of him overwhelmed her. “Yet this human burns...I can see it in his eyes...feel it radiating from his magnificent body. I want that heat. I want him.”

She could see disdain sweep across her brother’s face but she didn’t care as long as he indulged her this whim.

“Humans are weak,” he stated abruptly.

“This one is different,” Miandria persisted, although she was curious as to how, exactly, Malakair could make such a claim. Humans had been known to cross the divide between worlds, but it was rare and Sarah was the only one she had ever met.

Malakair folded his arms, his initial scorn thawing into dry amusement as his expression encouraged her to continue.

“The girl we have – Marie – she is special to him,” Miandria continued in earnest. “Although I do not sense that they are lovers. Yet. He will come for her. Make an attempt to rescue her. It is inevitable. And I fully intend to intercept him when he does. Marie is barely into womanhood. She will be naïve and inexperienced in the ways of pleasuring a man. She can not sate a creature like that.” She took a deep breath, face triumphant. “I am his true match.”

Strengthened by need and her own wanton desires, she felt her fear toward Malakair subside and she held his stare with confidence once more.

“I will have him, brother. As you will have Sarah, if that is your desire. I only ask for your support, your assistance, if necessary, as I will give you mine where Sarah is concerned.”

Malakair’s silence was torturous and she had to fight to suppress a sigh of relief when he finally nodded briskly.

“So be it,” he granted.

As he turned with a swish of his cloak and started off back down the hall, boots ruthlessly pounding the smooth stone floor, Miandria turned back to Sarah’s portrait, meeting her beautiful green eyes guiltily.

“I’m sorry, Sarah,” she offered quietly, voice purposely brusque in an attempt to keep her true feelings restrained, refusing to allow deplorable sentiment to weaken her any longer. “But this is the way it has to be.”

*******************

Scott pulled up to the motel, eased the SUV into a parking space and killed the engine. He glanced across to the rather nervous looking man in the seat beside him. “Do you want either Storm or I to go with you?” He already guessed not but thought it only polite to ask.

Robert shook his head. “I appreciate the offer but I think I’d rather do this alone.”

“Of course you do,” Storm agreed soothingly, reaching from the seat behind to gently place a hand on Robert’s shoulder. “Just know that we’ll be here, should you need us.”

Twisting in his seat, Robert offered her a small smile. “Thanks.”

Scott unclipped his seatbelt and relaxed back into his seat. “How long do you think you’ll be?”

Robert shrugged. “That depends on Karen. If she’ll even talk to me. And if, by some miracle she does, I seriously doubt that I’ll be able to persuade her to return with Toby to the Institute with us.” He considered a moment. “Give me five minutes and then I’ll either be back to tell you that I’m staying with Karen, or coming back with you alone.” He looked anxiously from Scott to Storm and then back to Scott again. “Is that OK?” He ran a hand through his hair, somewhat sheepishly. “I feel bad enough as it is about all this. It’s Christmas for Christ’s sake and here you are, chauffeuring me around in this horrendous weather.”

Scott had to admit that he would much rather be in the warm, by the fire, with a tumbler of brandy right now, but he also knew how important it was to be part of a family at this time of year. Having lost his own, he cherished the memories he had of time spent with them, especially childhood Christmases, and knew they would always hold a special place in his heart. He had a new family now of course, and his time at the Institute was also precious to him. It was just different. Different memories. But still family.

He decided it would be worth a little trip in the snow if he could help Robert win his own family back.

“Just you go,” Scott grinned. “Work things out.”

Robert returned the smile and hurried from the vehicle, slamming the door quickly behind him. A stray snowflake drifted in with the rush of cold air that followed his exit and Scott snatched it up into his hand playfully.

He could sense Storm’s own smile beaming into the back of his neck. “You can be very sweet at times, Scott Summers,” she insisted as she flicked his shoulder affectionately with her fingers. “Do you know that?”

“Hey! Less of the sweet,” he growled back, impersonating the Wolverine perfectly. “I’ve got a rep to maintain.”

Storm laughed. “Your impressions of Logan are getting better and better. Only don’t let him catch you doing them.”

Scott shrugged his lack of concern. “He takes the mick out of me enough times. Got to keep things in balance.”

Storm shook her head in feigned exasperation as she lent back into her seat and folded her arms. “Oh, you two,” she despaired.

************************

Toby huddled against the radiator in an attempt to get warm. The ancient looking machine spluttered and hissed but wasn’t very efficient at delivering the heat it was supposed to. Toby had never felt so cold.

Neither had he ever been in a motel room before and he had already decided that he didn’t like them. Not one little bit. They smelt weird, the carpets were scratchy, and the beds were hard.

He felt tears prick at his eyes as he hugged himself tightly with his arms.

He wanted to go home. Wanted to see his father. Wanted Christmas to be normal again.

His eyes swept the length of the room, passed those few presents his mother had allowed him to bring with him, passed the shiny wrapping paper haphazardly discarded around them, finally focussing upon the bathroom door. 

The locked bathroom door.

What on earth was his mother doing in there? She had been ages.

Had she forgotten about him?

Her silence frightened him. He couldn’t hear anything, not the sound of her in the shower, or fiddling with her pots of face cream, nor of her cleaning her teeth. Neither had he heard the toilet flush. Nothing.

He felt his stomach protest noisily. God, he was hungry! She had promised that they would have something to eat at the motel diner but that seemed to have been forgotten too.

He had never missed breakfast before.

He unwrapped himself from his arms and peered down at his hands, shivering slightly. He felt the urge to do it again. Do that thing. That incredible thing that had made his dessert reappear and that cartoon replay. That made him feel excited and scared stiff at the same time.

But he wanted to try it for something serious now. Use it, somehow, to get out of this horrible motel room and go back home. Could it do that, he wondered hopefully?

He frowned, biting down upon his lip frustratedly. The problem was, he didn’t know how to use it. Couldn’t remember how he had made it happen in the first place. That strange tingle that he had felt in his hands the last two times, had seemed to appear without much thought, without even trying...

He screwed up his eyes and tried to make it happen again, emptying his thoughts so that he only concentrated on what was important, wishing to be back home, wishing his father back, for things to be normal again.

Nothing happened.

He tried again, clenching his small fists as he focused desperately on his father’s smiling face, on their house...the living room with the white walls and mahogany furniture...

He could feel his face contorting, features scrunching together under the strain. The sensation quickly began to make him feel sick.

Defeated, he exhaled with a mighty puff, slamming his fists down onto the carpet as he snapped open his eyes.

Why wouldn’t it work again!?

With a quiet groan he leaned back against the radiator, ignoring the fact that the warm metal pressed uncomfortably into the back of his head.

Sarah? he thought sadly. I wish you were here. You’d know what to do. You’d be able to help me.

I would trust _you_ with my secret.

He had secrets, like that hidden stash of money in the drawstring bag beneath the porch, but he had never had a secret like this before. Was he like cousin Marie? Was he actually...a mutant? None of his other friends, as far as he knew, could make their desserts reappear like he had.

But didn’t people hate mutants?

He knew his mother did. She was always saying nasty things about Marie. And there had been something on the news once about a man with red eyes who had stolen something, and his mother had said that he had demon eyes.

She frightened him when she talked about demons and devils and people burning in hell...

As his mother slipped into his thoughts once more he peeked back at the bathroom door timidly. It looked huge all of a sudden. Menacing. Which seemed silly, when it was just an ordinary door. But it was what was behind it that was filling him with dread. Something was wrong. He could feel it.

His mother had done something bad.

At that same moment he heard her suddenly start fiddling with the bolt and he banged his head back against the radiator as he reacted with a start. As the door finally opened he immediately stood up, not aware that he had taken a step back and was now cowering against the grimy wallpaper.

His mother smiled across at him but she looked wrong. Her face looked scary, her makeup smudged and running, her skin pale and ghostly. She seemed to fall into the room but was just able to steady herself enough to stumble across to the bed, where she sat with some effort before gesturing to him with outstretched arms.

“Toby,” she whispered softly. “Come here.” Her voice sounded weak...and old somehow...reminding him of his grandmother.

Toby found himself peering back into the bathroom, noticing a small dark medicine bottle lying abandoned on the tiled floor. It appeared to be empty.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what it was. He knew that bottles like that were dangerous, that they were always kept out of his reach because they weren’t safe for children. But even though they were only for adults, he was sure that an empty one lying on the floor like that wasn’t right. That his mother had done something bad.

“Toby,” his mother prompted and he turned his gaze to her, startled. “Come. Let me hold you.”

When he realised that she had tears in her eyes something snapped inside him and he no longer felt afraid. He hurried over to her, dropping himself into her embrace.

“I love you Toby,” she murmured, burying her face in his hair. “I’ll always love you.” He could feel her tears fall onto his head. They felt surprisingly hot.

“I love you too, mummy,” he croaked. “Can we go home now?”

He felt her body heave. “Mummy has to go away, darling. To be with the angels. But daddy will take care of you.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“You won’t understand this now but I want you to know something, Toby. I want you to know that I only ever wanted to please him. Make him love me.”

“Who?”

“Your grandfather. He was a strict man but I was always in awe of his dedication to our Lord.”

Toby didn’t understand. He had never even known his grandfather. But he remained silent, allowing his mother to speak. He could even smell her tears now. They reminded him of the ocean. Salty. He didn’t think he had ever seen his mother cry. That scared him more than the bottle that lay on the bathroom floor.

“Even when he hit me with his belt for missing Bible practise.”

Toby squeezed her harder and felt her tighten her hold on him in response. A question suddenly popped into his head and before he could stop himself words were tumbling from his lips.

“Why do you hate cousin Marie, mummy?”

He heard his mother laugh, but it sounded muffled and more like a gurgle.

“I don’t hate Marie,” she breathed into his hair as she gently stroked his back. “I’m just...just afraid to like her.”

Toby frowned.

“And I think that you’re going to be just like her and that’s why I have to go away. Because I can’t sacrifice either of you.”

“Me or Marie?”

“No, Toby. You or my faith.”

Toby’s frown deepened. “What is faith?”

“Remember what I taught you? About our Lord? About surrendering your heart to him?” She eased him from her embrace and looked at him, her face glistening with tears now. “You’ll understand properly one day. When you’re older.”

He tried one last time. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I don’t want to go either.” She struggled with a smile. “But I’ll watch you from heaven.”

She lifted a trembling hand to his face before running her fingers through his hair tenderly. “My little boy. So beautiful.”

Toby didn’t like how she was acting. What was the matter with her? Her eyes seemed dim all of a sudden, as if she was finding it difficult to focus on him. She looked sleepy.

“You look tired, mummy,” he whispered gently.

“I am tired, Toby. So very tired.”

His face suddenly felt weird. As if his skin was being stretched towards the back of his head. It pulled on his neck, making his throat burn. It felt like being surprised, but much worst.

That was when he knew.

“Are you going to die?”

But before she could answer, an unanticipated knock at the door made them both jump and they quickly turned.

“Karen? Karen? Are you in there?” The knocks became more frantic, urgent. “It’s me, Robert.” There was a brief hesitation before: “Toby? Can you hear me, son?”

Toby’s eyes widened. “Daddy!”


	26. A Slither of Hope

Looming over the other X-Men menacingly, Logan slammed his hands down onto the conference room table-top, unable to contain his anger. “What d’ya mean, there’s no way we can get there? Marie’s there, goddamit!” 

Charles Xavier gestured helplessly. “I am just at a loss as to how we can physically get into the Labyrinth.”

“Then get thinkin’, Chuck, ‘cause if I don’t do somethin’ soon I’m gonna be doin’ some serious damage to ya furniture instead.”

[Please, Logan, calm down.] 

Logan snapped his gaze onto Dr Jean Grey. “Get outta my head, Red!”

Charles turned back to Sarah, somewhat desperate now. “There is nothing else you could tell us that might help in anyway?”

Sarah shrugged apologetically but frustration was clearly etched into her own face. “I just _said the words_ and Toby disappeared.”

“Can’t ya say the words again?” Logan blurted. “Wish me away, or somethin’? I’m ready an’ willin’!”

She shook her head, although appeared mildly amused, despite the circumstances. “It doesn’t work like that. It’s all connected to Jareth. And if he’s a prisoner somewhere…” her amusement swiftly changed to distress, “…he won’t be able to respond.”

“But I thought it was a bunch of goblins that did the baby snatchin’?” Logan pointed out.

“Yes, but they’re not real exactly. They’re…” she faltered, as if trying to find the right words. “…A projection from Jareth’s subconscious that is, in turn, somehow linked to the Labyrinth.” She sighed. “I wish I could explain it better.”

“Fascinating,” Dr Hank Mckoy remarked. “Simply fascinating.”

“Fascinatin’ aint gonna help us, doc,” Logan spat back, glaring at the blue furry man who sat opposite him.

“Logan, if you cannot behave with more restraint, I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Charles insisted regretfully. “I understand how you must be feeling, but your anger will not help Marie. It will only delay her rescue.”

Sarah ran her fingers through her hair in exasperation and hung her head, shoulders heaving despondently. “This is all my fault.”

Logan stared at her and his gaze softened. Rolling his eyes he dropped heavily down into the nearest chair forcing himself to acknowledge that Chuck was right. “Nah, kid. It aint. It’s mine. I should’ve never left her alone with that bitch.”

“I still can’t believe what Miandria did,” Sarah grieved, genuinely hurt. “That she betrayed Jareth like that. I thought she was my friend.”

“Perhaps she was forced into doing it,” Jean suggested, voice sympathetic.

Logan recalled the woman’s haughtiness in the Danger Room. “Nah. I don’t buy that. There was something dodgy about her from the beginnin’. I could sense it, only…” he clenched his fists. “I didn’t damn well act on it.”

“Please, all of you…it is no ones fault,” Charles started, but then he stopped abruptly, suddenly detaching himself from the conversation, his eyes seeming distant.

“What is it, Professor?” Jean asked anxiously, reaching across to lightly rest her hand on his arm.

After a few moments had passed Charles snapped out of his reverie and immediately turned to Sarah. “Scott and Storm have returned. They have Toby with them. I think you should go meet them.” He took a deep breath, his face grave. “I’m sorry to have to say this, but your step-mother has taken an overdose of pills and is in a coma. Your father is with her now, at the hospital.”

“Oh no!” Sarah quickly stood up, her chair scraping noisily on the grey tiled floor. “Yes…I will…oh god, poor Toby.”

“Jean, if you would be so kind as to take Sarah back up to the main levels.”

“Sure, Professor.”

When the two women had vacated the room Logan lent back in his chair and folded his arms. “Then there were three,” he groaned. He glanced from Hank back to Charles again. “C’mon, you two are the brains of this joint. Time to put some of that intelligence of yours to good use.” Usually one to keep his emotions well hidden, on this occasion he was unable to conceal just how fraught he was becoming. “I’m beggin’ ya now.”

Silence hung over them like a dark cloud, ominous and painful.

Logan’s claws itched like crazy beneath his skin, intent on being let loose to release some of this pent up frustration overwhelming him. All he could think of was how he had let Marie down. Left her in the clutches of that woman. He didn’t think he had ever failed her before and it made him feel physically sick, the fact that he was so helpless to act when she could be suffering…

His eyes scrunched closed. No. Don’t think about it, bub…

The sound of the door being opened made his eyes blink open with a start and he turned to see Scott and Storm walk into the room. They looked a little worst for the wear.

“Take it things didn’t go too well?” Logan ribbed, although his heart wasn’t in it.

Scott sank down in the chair next to Hank. “You could say that,” he confessed, unzipping his jacket and dragging a thin scarf from around his neck.

“How is the boy?” Charles inquired.

Scott didn’t seem completely sure. “Subdued, I guess.”

Storm sat gracefully down beside the Professor. “I think he will be all right,” she tried to reassure with her typical unwavering optimism. “I sense that his temperament is of a quiet nature anyway.” She smiled gently. “And I think seeing Sarah again has helped enormously.”

“What’s going on, Professor?” Scott asked, frowning into his visor. “Sarah says that Marie is gone?”

Charles quickly explained what had happened, from their success in connecting to the Labyrinth using Cerebro, to the alarming abduction of Marie.

Scott turned angrily to Logan. “And you left her with that woman? Are there any brain cells beneath that adamantium?”

“Scott, please,” Charles intervened shortly. “We have already been down this path and as I explained to Logan, it solves nothing.”

“Just get ya thinkin’ cap on, Leader-boy,” Logan countered sourly. “We need to come up with a way to get into that place.”

Scott shook his head in amazement. “I can’t believe that she’s there…in Sarah’s Labyrinth. I must admit to having been slightly sceptical about the whole thing…But now?” He hesitated, before adding: “Are you sure – absolutely sure – that’s where she is?”

“I saw that bitch materialise right before my eyes,” Logan retorted. “Where the hell d’ya think she comes from? Mars?”

“Professor…” a calmer voice cut in.

Heated eyes turned to Storm.

“Is Kurt back yet?”

Charles watched her with curious interest. “Not yet…why?”

Her beautiful face was animated further with the stirrings of excitement. “You said that you were able to connect to the Labyrinth through Cerebro.” She swept her gaze across the X-Men, finally settling upon Charles again. “Well, is there any way that Kurt could see the Labyrinth in Cerebro, focus upon it, and then teleport there? Perhaps even taking us with him, one at a time? After what happened at Alkali Lake we know that he can teleport with a passenger.”

“Could it be done?” Logan demanded impatiently, eyes flicking from Hank to the Professor.

Charles glanced across at Hank. “What do you think?”

Hank nodded. “I see no reason why we shouldn’t at least give it a try.”

“Then let’s just hope that Kurt hurries up,” Logan complained, scowling. “I don’t wanna leave Marie in that place any longer than I have to.” He promptly stood up. “That Miandria,” he snarled, over emphasising her name in disgust, “…is gonna be sorry she ever decided to cross me!”

“Logan? Where are you going?”

Logan peered back at Storm, eyes narrowed. “I need a beer, big-time.” As he sauntered out of the conference room, he threw back: “I’ll be in the kitchen. I wanna know the second Nightcrawler zaps back.”

“Yes, Sir!” Scott mocked, but the words held more teasing than malice.

“I heard that!” Logan shouted back from half way down the corridor.

“Poor Logan,” Storm commiserated when the riled Wolverine had gone. “It’s understandable that he would react in such a way. He and Marie have become very close.”

“Poor Logan?” Scott scoffed. “Shouldn’t that be poor Marie? One of our team is in trouble and, for the time being, there is nothing we can do to help her.”

Hank lifted his enormous bulk from the chair and made to exit the conference room. “If you would all follow me to the lab next door, I have some data to show you that might speed things along a bit.”

**************************

As Logan approached the kitchen he heard familiar voices. He rolled his eyes. Of all the places Jean could’ve taken Sarah she had to choose the one place his beers were kept.   
He sniffed. And there was another scent. A kid. Probably the brother.

He snorted. The little guy who had been whisked away by the goblins. Sounded like one hell of a disturbed fairy-tale, poor kid.

Both Jean and Sarah immediately looked in his direction as he marched into the room. The little boy – Toby? - remained preoccupied with whatever it was he was eating - he sure as hell seemed hungry, Logan decided.

Sarah offered him a weak smile, and he could sense that she was still feeling guilty about what had happened to Marie. Jean, on the other hand, appeared slightly annoyed that he had chosen to visit the one place she had taken Sarah for some downtime with her brother.

Too bad, Red, Logan thought stubbornly, although tried not to project it strongly enough for her to catch. After all, he had told her to get out of his head only ten minutes earlier.

“How’s it going?” she asked gently as he walked over to the fridge, opened it, pulled out a beer with a _drink this and be gutted_ post-it note stuck on, and slammed it closed again.

He frowned as he leant back against the fridge door. “Too slow for my liking,” he growled. “Can’t do nothin’ till Nightcrawler gets here.”

“Nightcrawler?”

“Yeah…Storm made a suggestion that Hank thinks could work.”

“In what way?” Sarah asked, watching him hopefully, and he suddenly felt bad. It wasn’t only him eager to be reunited with Marie…Sarah was obviously desperate to get back to her husband.

Logan shrugged. “The Blue Elf might be able to get us into the Labyrinth.”

“Elf? I…I don’t understand?”

“Kurt, also known as Nightcrawler, is a teleporter,” Jean informed her. She glared daggers at Logan. “And you know he hates being called an Elf.”

“Yeah, well he can be damned annoying at times. All that bamfing! An’ I can’t smell him first, like I can the rest of ya!” Logan grumbled, before opening his beer and swallowing down almost half the contents of the bottle in a few mouthfuls.

The topic of conversation roused Toby’s attention and he twisted around in his chair to stare quizzically at Logan. “A real Elf?”

Logan lowered the bottle from his lips. “Sure is, kid. Only human-size.”

Toby looked unconvinced. “Elves aren’t human-sized - you’re fibbing.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. He liked the kid's spunk. “Is that right?” he teased.

“Toby, eat your dinner, there’s a good boy,” Sarah encouraged whilst she turned her attentions back to Logan. “So you’re saying that this…Nightcrawler…can teleport into the Labyrinth?”

“That’s what the Brains downstairs are having a debate about.”

Jean pondered thoughtfully, and Logan wasn’t altogether surprised that she was already putting two and two together - sometimes the intensity of intellect buzzing around the institute could really hurt his head. He wasn’t stupid and would have probably come up with the teleporting idea himself, given a bit of time, but he was more the man of action than deliberation.

He smirked as he watched Jean. “You there yet, darlin’? Or d’ya want me to come back later?”

She flashed him a _please don’t interrupt me look_ before finally putting him out of his misery. “If the Professor can now connect to the Labyrinth using Cerebro…and if Kurt was to be there and…and try to connect with the place himself somehow…even if it’s just seeing it visually…”

“Bingo,” Logan finished for her.

******************

Hank gestured to the computer monitor. “The data is somewhat primitive.” He frowned his dissatisfaction. “I admit that I am still having difficulty transferring the statistics that we collected from Cerebro." 

He pointed, the pad of his finger pressing against the screen. “Each of these lines represents a link to a mutant, or non-mutant, whatever the case may be, and any correlation between them. You will see that they are practically identical every time.” He drew their attentions to a second monitor. “And these are the result of our visit to the Labyrinth. Notice that the colour of Jareth’s link is different. And that there are these strange anomalies dotted the length of the line, giving it almost a chain effect.”

“Do you know what they are?” Storm asked, folding her arms and leaning in towards the monitor.

Hank shrugged disappointedly. “I regret to say that I don’t. Although…” He proceeded to tap a series of keys on the keyboard and then pressed return. “My studies of Nightcrawler over the past few months has brought up some interesting results. Take a look.”

Charles wheeled in as close as his wheelchair would allow. “The same chain effect,” he whispered in astonishment.

“It could simply be coincidence,” Hank accepted. “Or an error that occurred when the data was transferred.”

“But if not?” Scott posed, leaning his hands on the desk to examine the two graphs in more detail.

“It really is too early to hypothesise.”

“Indulge us anyway, Hank,” Charles insisted, good-naturedly.

Hank offered the Professor a small smile. “Well, I believe that the chain effect, where the line is neither complete nor broken, represents a weaker infrastructure, where the rules of physics are less governed.” He glanced back at the screens of data. “In other words, an ability to travel through other dimensions. We know that Nightcrawler can teleport from place to place here, but we have yet to determine where exactly he disappears to during that brief moment of transition. Whose to say that he hasn’t already passed through the Underground at one time or another?” He appeared a little perplexed. “Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense,” Charles reassured confidently, a small smile shivering across his lips. “And if you are right…” what looked like relief slipped into his countenance. “…Then Nightcrawler may very well be the answer to our problems.”


End file.
